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LAUGHING EYES 



BY MBS. H. 0. HOFFMAN. 


Entered accm'ding to Act of Congress^ in the year 1885 , by Nor- 
man L. Munro^ in the office of the Librarian of 
Congress, at Washingt07i, B. G. 




NOBMAN L. MUNRO, PUBLISHER, 

34 AND 26 VANDEWATER ST. 


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[COPYRIGHTED.] 

LAUGHING EYES. 


BY MRS. H. C. HOFFMAN. 


CHAPTER I. 

WHICH IKTRODUCES THE HEROINE. 

A ROGUISH, sun-burnt little face, smeared with the 
juice of the fruit, and the hair falling in a tangle about 
it, looked laughingly out from among the blackberry 
bushes skirting the road. 

It was a face to attract any one at once, yet not so 
pretty as picturesque. There was something in the con 
tour and expression at once suggestive of the daughter of 
some wandering gypsy tribe. All the features were regu- 
lar and well proportioned, the lips clear cut, ripe and 
pouting like the petals of a rose, the teeth like rows of 
pearls; but what principally attracted attention were her 
eyes. 

Such eyes they were, of the deepest, divinest blue, 
ever rippling over with fun and mischief, and if veiled 
for a moment beneath their long, dark lashes, only to be 
raised again in merry glances — sparkling, laughing eyes, 
that one could not help thinking in a few years more 
would cause fearful havoc in the breasts of the opposite 
sex. 

So thought a lady passing in a carriage, as she caught 
sight for a moment of the little head, covered with an 
old and much dilapidated sun-bonnet, looking through 
the bushes. 

The lady was no longer in the first bloom of her youth, 
although she could hardly be called old. About thirty- 
two would probably have been her age, but there was a 
look upon her countenance as of some secret sorrow, that 
made her appear older. 


2 


LAUGHING EYES, 


Looking at her pale, refined face, with the dark brown 
hair through whose luxurious I'ichness silver threads were 
beginning to find their way, one felt at once she was a 
woman who had a history of her own. 

She was dressed very simply, though in the richest 
material, while the shape of the slender white hand, 
seen through the lace mitten, showed her to be a lady 
born. 

Seated in the carriage with her were two girls of about 
ten and twelve years old. They were both at that tage 
of life, similar to that of a youth several years older, when 
every action seems to be performed in the most awkward 
way possible. Both had hair a shade too decided to be 
called golden, gray eyes, large mouths, and pert little 
noses, with a tendency to elevate themselves at the points. 
Though they both called the lady mamma, they plainly 
were not her own children, and, in all likelihood, she was 
only their stepmother. 

Such was really the relation between them. The lady^s 
name was Mrs. Goldwin, the second wife of the banker, 
Herbert Goldwin, whose name was a tower of strength 
in commercial circles. The two girls were his daughters 
by a previous marriage; and about a mile away, its gables 
rising above the oaks and chestnuts of the park, could be 
seen the banker’s stately mansion. 

The roguish face with the laughing eyes, peeping from 
under the shade of the sun- bonnet, had attracted the 
lady’s attention, and telling the driver to stop, she called 
the little girl to her. 

The child came half-reluctantly out of the thicket of 
berry bushes, and advanced toward the carriage. Now, 
when her figure was visible, it could be seen she was about 
ten or eleven years old. Her little brown legs and feet 
were without shoes or stockings; her scanty frock was 
made of cheap checked calico, and she came to the side 
of the carriage hanging down her head in a half -bashful 
way, as if expecting to be reprimanded. 

What have you been doing there, my little girl?” the 
lady asked. 

For answer the child held up her little hands stained 
with the berries she had been picking, and looked at the 
lady with her large, laughing eyes sparkling beneath 
the rim of the old sun-bonnet. 


LAUGHING EYES, 


3 


Eatin’ berries/^ she said, concisely. 

As the lady looked attentively at her, something in the 
expression of the Childs’s eyes and features recalled yet more 
vividly a memory of another face in the long ago, and it 
was with a strange feeling of interest she asked the next 
question. 

“ What is your name, child?’’ 

^‘Bell,” as laconically as before. Then with a grin: 

But they call me Polly sometimes, and 1 like that, but 
then other times they call me other names I don’t like, 
and then I get mad and pelt stones, then. Don’t 1, 
though? You bet I do.” 

The lady smiled at the child’s naivete, 

“ They should have called you Laughing Eyes, little 
one,” she said, but Bell is very pretty, though it is 
only half your name. What is the rest?” 

I ain’t got none.” 

But what is your papa and mamma’s name?” 

I ain’t got none of them, either.” 

Poor little girl. Are they dead?” 

No, they ain’t dead, cither, for I never had none,” 
the girl answered, with another burst of confidence. I 
belong to the parish, I do. That’s what I heard them 
say. I live down in the village with old Moll Higgins, 
and the minister pays her every week for taking care of 
me. Bill Dike he said he thought the minister must be 
my father; he took such pains with me, and when become 
around again I asked him if he was. There was two 
young ladies with him, and his face got as red as the old 
turkey gobbler, and he began asking me if I learned my 
Bible lesson yet. It was all about Lazarus, and I hate 
Lazarus. I don’t think he was half as good as one of the 
dogs, do you?” 

Without expressing any opinion as to the comparative 
qualities of the person named, the lady went on: 

You ought not to say old Moll Higgins. It does not 
sound nice for little girls. You should say Mrs. Higgins. 
Do you like living with her?” 

Oh, she’s just as nasty as nasty can be, and I hate 
her. She beats me awful hard sometimes, and don’t I 
holler? Oh, may be not! I holler till I make her head 
ache so she’s nearly wild, and then I put snuJff in her tea. 


4 


LAUGHING LYES. 


and she sneezes and gets as sick as can be. Oh, it’s such 
fun!” 

She gave a rippling little laugh at the recollection, but 
suddenly checked herself, and added: 

Tin going to kill her some day.” 

This sanguinary intention was announced with such an 
air of earnestness, that in spite of herself the lady smiled. 

It is very naughty to talk that way,” she said. 

^^Oh, but I am,” the child answered. told Jack 
about it, and he said: ‘Darn my old lee scuppers, but 
you’ll be hung.’ I like Jack.” 

“ And who is Jack?” 

The laughing eyes opened wide with amazement that 
any one could be so ignorant as not to know who Jack 
was. 

“Why, Jack,” she hastened to explain, “ is old Moll’s 
son, of course. He’s a sailor, and the last time he was 
home he brought me a parrot that could swear perfectly 
beautiful, honest, better than I could myself; but old 
Moll went and sold him for five dollars. I wish I was a 
boy, and then I’d be a sailor, too, and chew tobacco and 
drink rum just like Jack.” 

As the lady continued to scrutinize the girl’s face, the 
resemblance she had first noticed appeared to grow more 
and more decided. 

“ Little Laughing Eyes,” she said, her voice soft with 
the painful memory in her mind, “would you like to 
come home with me and play with my little girls?” 

Bell surveyed the other occupants of the carriage with 
a supercilious glance. 

“I don’t like them” she said, decidedly; “but I’ll go 
with you.” 

“But you must learn to like them,” the lady said. 
“This young lady is Miss Matilda and the other Miss 
Laura. Now climb up into the carriage and sit beside 
me.” 

Without any hesitation the child climbed over the 
wheel and did as she was told, the two girls drawing 
themselves as far from her as possible, and holding their 
dresses so she could not touch them. 

“Now you must be very good,” the lady said, “and 
not talk about killing anybody any more, for that is very 


LAUGHING EYES, 


5 


wicked. I will get you some nice clean clothes, and then 
you can play with the young ladies.^’ 

The laughing eyes sparkled with pleasure at the 
promise, and after about a quarter of an hour the carriage 
drew up before the door of Gold win Hall. 

Alighting, Mrs. Goldwin took the child’s hand and led 
her into the house and took her into a parlor. 

^• Now,” she said, ^^you will wait here with the young 
ladies a few moments until I send the nurse to wash and 
dress you.” 

She left the room as she finished speaking, and Bell, 
sitting on the extreme edge of a chair, gazed around her 
in mute admiration of the elegant mirrors and furniture. 

No sooner had their stepmother gone out than Miss 
Matilda and Miss Laura arose from their seats and walked 
to the window which opened to the garden. 

I think mamma ought to have more sense,” Miss Ma- 
tilda said, tossing her head scornfully, ‘Hhan pick up a 
little beggar like that and bring her home to play with 
us.” 

ril tell papa when he comes home,” her sister re- 
sponded. ^^He does not want us to associate with a brat 
like that. Look at her hands, they’re d;rty as a pig.” 

This was more than the Laughing Eyes’ belligerent 
spirit could stand, and she jumped off her chair to the 
floor. 

‘^Brat yourself!” she cried. Pig, too. I don’t care 
if my hands are dirty. They’re clean enough to lick you 
in about two minutes!” 

'"Oh, you vulgar little wretch!” cried Miss Matilda. 
'"If you say another word. I’ll slap your face!” 

Laughing Eyes doubled up her dirty little fists and 
put herself in an attitude of defense. 

"Come and try it,” she said. "I dare yer — dare yer 
^ — dare yer! Bah — bah — bah! Any one takes a dare’ll 
steal a sheep! bah — bah!” 

'" I won’t stand it any longer. I will go and tell mamma 
this minute!” cried Miss Matilda, and followed by her 
sister, she flounced out of the room. 

Sending a contemptuous allusion to the color of their 
hair, and the freckles on their faces, flying after them. 
Laughing Eyes, left alone, began to look around for 
something else to amuse her. Her first feeling of awe at 


6 


LAUGHING EYES. 


the grandeur of the house had worn off by this time, 
and her spirit of mischief fully aroused. 

There was a life-size portrait, in oil, of an old lady, 
evidently but recently finished, standing on an easel near 
the window, and Laughing Eyes went up and stood be- 
fore it, looking at it for some time in silence. As she 
did so, an idea came into her head that caused her eyes 
to sparkle like a thousand diamonds. 

^^ril give them a scare, you bet I will,” she said, and 
taking up a pair of scissors that lay on the table, she de- 
liberately proceeded to cut the old lady’s face out of the 
canvas, then crawling behind the easel, she thrust her 
own face, sun-bonnet and all, through the hole she had 
made, and waited, a broad grin on her face, and her eyes 
dancing with mischievous joy. 

Hardly had she got herself arranged to her satisfaction, 
than the nurse Mrs. Goodwin had sent to her entered the 
room. 

Where is the little girl I have to wash and dress?” 
she said in a pleasant voice, and looking around the room 
as she spoke. 

"‘Bah!” said Laughing Eyes, looking through the can- 
vas. 

For a moment or two the nurse looked around the 
room, puzzled to make out where the voice came from. 

Then seeing the roguish little face surrounded by the 
brim of the sun-bonnet, looking out from the canvas 
where the placid face of the old lady should have been, 
she started back with an expression of mingled amaze- 
ment and dismay. 

“Land sakes alive!” she ejaculated. “The picture 
must be bewitched. It’s come to life, I do declare!” 

“Bah!” said Laughing Eyes again, and she broke into 
a merry rippling laugh at the success of her joke. 

By this time, however, the nurse’s slow wits had dis- 
covered the imposition, and seizing the child by the 
shoulder she dragged her from behind the picture. 

“Oh, you bad, naughty, wicked girl!” she cried. 
“How could you do such a thing? You will be sent to 
prison.” 

“ I don’t care if I am,” Laughing Eyes answered, 
struggling with all her strength. “ Hit some one of your 
own size, will you?” 


LAUGHING EYES. 


7 


‘^ril go this minute^, and tell Mrs. Goldwin, and she 
will send for the policeman to take yon away to jail.” 

As she went out Laughing Eyes'* face grew very solemn, 
indeed. 

‘‘1 guess Fd better make myself scarce,” she said, 
shaking her little head gravely, and she crossed the floor 
to jump through the window into the garden, when a 
large, white French poodle walked slowly, in an inquiring 
way, into the room. 

He was a bloated specimen of a poodle, a very epicurean 
of a dog, to whom life had been made very pleasant. 
There was a contemptuous look in his eyes for dogs that 
were not so well off as he, and his hair was long and silky, 
and white as snow. 

No sooner had Laughing Eyes caught sight of him than 
she stopped short. 

Oh, what a darling!” she cried. ^AVouldn’t he look 
nice made like a lion, like Bill Hiker’s dog? Here, 
doggie — doggie 1” 

The poodle was evidently inclined to be gracious that 
afternoon, and he waddled slowly to the child, who 
caught him in her arms, and also seizing the scissors, ran 
out of the French window into the garden. 

Two minutes later she was sitting m a quiet spot in 
the shelter of a hedge, busily engaged with the scissors in 
shearing the silky poodle after the approved leonine 
fashion of Bill Dike’s dog. 

CHAPTER 11. 

IlSr WHICH THE CUETAIN IS RAISED FROM THE PAST, AHD 
THE DEAD COMES TO LIFE. 

It was the height of the season at Baden Baden, nearly 
a dozen years before this story opens. The society was 
pretty much as it usually is in similar German watering 
places which flckle fortune has selected as a site for her 
shrine. The divinity worshiped was Chance, and its 
devotees were eager in their worship. Looking back, I 
can once more hear the chink of the gold as it changes 
hands, bringing ruin to the many, wealth for a short 
space to the few; and the monotonous voice of the crou- 
pier as he rakes in the glittering stakes. 

Red loses — black wins. Make your game, messieurs, 
make your game!” 


8 


LAUGHING EYES. 


It was a gay, reckless, fevered life, all striving to win 
Fortune's smiles; the favorites for the time of the fickle 
goddess were lions of the hour. Sometimes a poor wretch, 
with a single ISapoleon, would break the bank, and for 
a day or two be the pet of duchesses and countesses of the 
little grand-ducal court, until his head was turned and he 
lost the money as he had won it, and, not unfrequently, 
went back to his hotel and blew his brains out. 

Society, for the most part, was composed of adventur- 
ers of both sexes, and all ages and ranks — foreign nobles 
with title and pedigree extending generations back, but 
purses sadly in need of replenishing; younger sons of 
noble English families, and ex-officers of the army, who, 
having run through everything they possessed, had come 
to Baden to try to make up what they had lost, by risk- 
ing the money gained by the sale of their commissions, at 
the gaming tables. Some few, however, there were who 
played merely for the sake of the excitement it brought, 
and a still smaller minority who strolled into the Kursaal 
but once, out of mere curiosity, and who stayed in the 
place for the sake of the medicinal qualities of the baths. 

Among these last were an American gentleman, his 
sister, and only daughter. 

His name was Eeginald Lyle, an old man of nearly 
sixty, and he was afflicted with a disease of the spine for 
which the physicians had prescribed the Baden Springs 
as the only restorative. He was a widower, and his sister, 
who was but a year or two younger than himself, had to 
take the place of a mother to his child. 

The young lady was a little more than eighteen, and 
very beautiful, with a vivacious, piquant charm of man- 
ner such as only American girls possess. Forming such 
a contrast as she did to the placid, immovable German 
blondes, and the almost nut brown mademoiselles from 
across the Ehine, it is not to be wondered at that she 
soon became the acknowledged belle of the place. 

Among the men most fascinated by her beauty was a 
young Englishman named Louis Hayle. 

He was a man to be noticed among a hundred others. 
Tall and stalwart of figure, his face reminded one of some 
Spanish noble in a picture by Velasquez. It was a face 
that told of a spirit generous, yet wayward and impulsive 
— an evil face, too, when thwarted in his purpose, tliat 


LAUGHim EYES. 


9 


told that its owner would pause at nothing to accomplish 
his designs. 

His character was of the sort so fascinating to most 
women. He was known as the heaviest player in the 
whole of that strangely thrown together society, yet un 
like the rest he was no adventurer. He played for the 
excitement it brought, not for gain. His wealth was 
enormous. Probably, without exception, he was the 
richest commoner in England, yet young as he was — not 
more than twenty-five at the most — his was a nature 
soured and misanthropical, at war with the world. 

In those days the lines of the different grades of En- 
glish society were more strongly defined than at present, 
and the sins of the father had placed the son beyond their 
pale. Originally a bootblack, his father had gradually 
raised himself until he became a pawnbroker, and after- 
ward one of the most noted lenders and bill discounters 
in the United Kingdom, until at last his wealth had be- 
come almost fabulous; and even this he had augmented 
by a marriage with the sole heiress of a Spanish Jew. 

She had died in giving birth to their first child, the 
Louis of this history, and old Hayle, if penurious in 
everything else, had lavished money on his only son. With 
more money at his command before he reached his teens 
than many a nobleman’s son, it was little wonder that he 
became overbearing in his manner, and impatient of re- 
straint. Sent to Eton, he had found himself shunned and 
avoided by his schoolmates, and his many fights had 
wound up by his stabbing one of his tormentors, in con- 
sequence of which he had been expelled from the school. 
To go to one of the English universities after this es- 
capade was of course out of the question, and he had been 
sent to one of the German colleges, where he had re- 
mained until he came of age, when, his father dying, he 
had returned to his native land. 

In vain he had tried to gain admittance to the circles 
of society to which he thought his wealth Justly entitled 
him, and thus, repulsed and scorned by the world, he 
passed tivo or three years in sailing about over the world 
in his own yacht. 

Here at Baden, on his return from a trip up the Nile, 
he had met Alice Lyle, and with the quick impetuosity 
of his nature, had fallen madly in love with her at once. 


10 


LAUGHING EYES, 


His dashing manner was not without effect upon the 
girl. She confessed her reciprocating passion, and Louis 
Hayle at once went to her father, and in a manly, out- 
spoken way, asked his consent to their union. It was re- 
fused, however, and both being of age, a secret marriage 
followed. 

As soon as the ceremony was over, the young man was 
for at once proceeding to Mr. Lyle and declaring the fact 
to him. The girl, however, fearing that the effect the 
sudden shock might have upon him in his weak state of 
health, begged to be allowed to go alone and break the 
news gently to him herself, and to this, after much per- 
suasion, Louis Hayle reluctantly consented. 

The arrangement did not suit his bold, open nature. 
It seemed as if he had sent her to do what he feared to 
do himself, but a request from her lips was law to him, 
and impatiently pacing up and down the street to await 
her return, he, at last, turned into one of the many gar- 
dens to help to pass the time until the hour at which he 
was again to meet her. 

As he took his seat at a table the words of two men 
sitting at an adjoining one attracted his attention. One 
was a young sprig of English nobility, and the other a 
young Parisian man of fashion, the young Marquis de St. 
Eoche. As their words fell upon Louis Hayle’s ears, a 
hot flush came into his face and then fled again, leaving 
it as pale as death, for it was of his new-made bride they 
were speaking. 

^^Bah, that canaille^’ the marquis said, contempt- 
uously, ‘^she may marry him for his money, but it strikes 
me these prove where her heart is set.” 

As he spoke, he drew from an inner pocket of his coat 
a lock of hair tied with a blue ribbon, and a small gold 
locket containing a portrait. Before his companion could 
look at them, however, Louis Hayle had arisen from his 
seat, and stood before the pair. 

I demand,” he said, in a voice quivering with pas- 
sion, in the name of the lady whom you defame by 
using it, the instant surrender of those articles to me.” 

The Frenchman started to his feet, his face also pallid 
with passion, but his voice very calm and sarcastic, as he 
answered : 

Monsieur must be mad, or more probably has 


LAUGHING EYES. 


11 


been drinking too much, to make such a request,” he 
said. 

Louis Hayle^s only answer was to snatch the portrait 
and the lock of hair from the other^s hand, and to dash his 
glove in his face. 

Take that, you cur!” he hissed, '‘and return it to me 
around a bullet, if you wish.” 

For such an insult there could be but one mode of 
redress, and in less than an hour later the two men stood 
in the mellow moonlight in the woods beyond the town, 
twelve paces apart and pistols in their hands, awaiting 
the word to fire. 

It was given; but only one report rang out upon' the 
night air. It was the Frenchman who had fired, and his 
bullet had but grazed his opponent’s temple, who now 
stood with a demoniac look upon his face. Then, still 
pausing a moment longer, Louis Hayle took deliberate 
aim at the other’s heart, and fired. 

The bullet sped true to its mark; but it was not a fair 
and honorable fight. It was murder; and breaking from 
those who sought to hold him, Louis Hayle sprung upon 
his horse, that was in waiting, and rode at fuJl speed 
toward the town. 

Half an hour later he stood in the boudoir of the girl 
he had made his wife but a few hours before. 

" Here,” he said, in a voice pitiless and stern, " are 
the love-gifts given to your previous lover, and with 
them allow me to bid you adieu.” 

“Louis!” she cried, “it was before I knew you, I 
never -'eally loved him. Forgive me.” 

I never forgive,” he interrupted. “ I never forget. 
I thought that in you I had found a pure and gentle 
spirit, who could console me for all the unmerited scorn 
I have received from the world. I find I was mistaken, 
and I bid you adieu now, but remember that for the pain 
and misery you have made me feel, when you least expect 
it I shall return, and make you suffer pang for pang, that 
I have felt.” 

“Louis — Louis!” she wailed, “you will kill me. It 
was but a harmless flirtation ” 

“Perhaps,” he again interrupted, in the same pitiless 
voice, “but it has cost a life, and made you the wife of 
— ail iibsassin.” 


12 


LAUGHING EYES. 


With a loud cry of anguish the girl fell swooning to the 
flooi% and when she again recovered consciousness he had 
gone. 

This was the rntiiiory called to life in Mrs. uroldwin^s 
mind by the face of the child picking berries by the road- 
side. This it was that had caused the compassionate im- 
pulse to take the girl to her own home, for her features 
were those of Louis Hayle, her husband for three short 
hours, and in spite of his harshness to her, she loved him 
yet. 

Since that never-to-be-forgotten night she had never 
seen his face. She never could now, not even his grave, 
for three years afterward his yacht with all on board had 
been lost, while crossing the Atlantic. 

Long before this news Jiad reached her, she had re- 
turned to America, and her father had died. For more 
than five years she had steadily refused all offers of 
marriage, until about two years before she had become 
the wife of Herbert Goldwin. She did not love him. 
They say a woman can love but once, and the one great 
love of her life was buried where the salt sea waves flowed 
over the bleaching bones of Louis Hayle; but she re- 
spected him, and her life was far from an unhappy one. 

On the afternoon after taking Laughing Eyes home, 
and giving the nurse orders respecting her, she had at 
once re-entered the carriage and driven to the village. 

Her intention was to see the old woman who took care 
of the child, and try and learn something more of her 
early history, and, knowing where the cottage stood, she 
left the carriage in the suburbs of the village, and pro- 
ceeded the rest of the way on foot. 

She was doomed, however, to be disappointed in her 
endeavor to trace any clew to the giiTs parentage. The 
story lold her was a common one, without the least ele- 
ment of romance. A woman, young, and evidently once 
very beautiful, but gaunt and haggard with hunger and 
fatigue, had reached the parsonage one winters night, 
only in time to die and leave her child, an infant several 
months old, to the care of strangers. 

There was no wedding-ring upon the woman’s finger, 
nor anything by which the child could be traced in future 
years. She iiad been given decent burial; and her infant 
grew up, a scanty allowance being paid the old woman by 


LAUGHING EYES. 


13 


the parish for her keep. That was all the story. Evi- 
dently little Laughing Eyes was destined to prove the 
heiress to no large fortime, but only the nameless wai£*of 
a dead mother and an unknown father. 

Leaving the cottage, much disappointed at the non- 
success of her inquiries, Mrs. Gold win walked slowly, by 
an unfrequented lane, toward the spot where she had left 
the carriage. 

As she walked along her mind was still busy with mem- 
ories of the past, and so absorbed was she in her reflec- 
tions, that she was unconscious of the approaching figure 
of a man, until they were within a few yards of each 
other. 

She looked up in a careless way, and was about to pass 
by, when suddenly the color fled from her face, leaving 
it pallid as that of a corpse, while a cry of mingled terror 
and amazement broke from her lips: 

Louis Hayle!^^ she gasped. 

When she had first looked at him, the man had also 
given an involuntary start of surprise; but, recovering 
himself in an instant, a sardonic smile wreathed itself 
about his lips, as he answered: 

Yes, madam,^’ he said; after twelve years of separa- 
tion we have met again^" 


CHAPTER III. 

IN’ WHICH THE LAUGHTER IS CHANGED TO TEARS. 

Ih a short time Laughing Eyes had the poodle sheared 
to her satisfaction. The sybarite life the animal had led 
seemed to have enervated his spirit of opposition, and, 
beyond a few feeble snarls, he offered no resistance to the 
spoliation of his silky locks. When, however, she held 
him at arms'* length from her to admire her work, he 
seemed to feel conscious of his degradation, and held his 
tail, with the ridiculous tip at the end, between his legs, 
in a self-depreciatory way. 

As for Laughing Eyes, she was in a perfect ecstasy of 
delight. 

Oh! doggie,^" she said, ^^you look perfectly beautiful 
now, and Eli take you down and show you to Bill Dikes.” 

She got up from her sitting position as she spoke, the 
dog still in her arms, to carry out her intention, when 


14 


LAUGHING EYES. 


suddenly a large gray cat darted across the path before 
her. 

instantly her mind changed, and releasing her hold on 
the dog, she once more set him on his legs on the ground. 

^‘Hi, boy, cats!^^ she cried, clapping her hands, ^‘take 
’em, Towser. Good dog. S’catch him, boy!” 

The sight of his natural enemy at once aroused any 
trace of his original spirit left in the dog’s mind. Per- 
haps,, also, feeling mean himself, he was glad of the 
chance to get even somehow, and he gave vent to a little 
snappish tok, while his tail arose from its recumbent 
position and stood ferociously on end. 

Evidently the cat’s first thought was the ignoble one of 
flight, and making a short turn it ran ris:ht into the 
middle of a bed of rare carnations. 

The poodle also started off at an angle and followed. 

Then the cat turned at bay and used her claws the 
very best she knew how, yowling ferociously as she did so. 

In less than two seconds that bed of carnations was a 
sight to make the gardener weep, but the destruction of 
the flowers had no place in the thoughts of Laughing 
Eyes, as she clapped her little hands in irrepressible glee. 

‘‘ Go it, doggie!” she cried. Wool him, pussy!” 

The combatants, however, were evidently doing their 
level best without the aid of her cheering on, and hav- 
ing completely destroyed the carnations, had shifted 
their ground to an adjoining bed filled with camelias, 
when the child felt a heavy hand laid upon her 
shoulder. 

Looking up, she saw a hard-featured old man, with 
sandy hair and a thin fringe of whiskers around his chin, 
looking at her with anything but a friendly expression. 
It was the Scotch gardener, who, like most of his class, 
was an orthodox disciple of John Knox, and delighted 
in using the most learned-sounding words in the dic- 
tionary. 

‘^^Whaare ye?” he asked, with a broad Scotch accent. 

Maybe ye dinna ken ye are committing a public nui- 
sance on a private demesne by setting the twa pair dumb 
brutes a fighting and destroying the property of the pro- 
prietor, which is in the eyes of the law a misdemeanor, for 
which the penalty is very heavy.” 

Though most of tliis speech was little more intelligible 


LAUGHING EYES. 


15 


to the child than so much Chinese, she felt it was an oc- 
casion for a little diplomacy. 

^‘Please, sir,^'’ she said, want my dog, but I’m 
afraid the cat will scratch me. 

Ye’re a cheil of sin,” the gardener answered, ‘^and 
you shall be punished for telling such a falsehood.” 

Laughing Eyes changed her tactics. 

Let me alone, will you?” she cried, struggling to free 
herself from his grasp. ain^t hurtin’ you. Why 

can’t yon give a feller a chance?” 

I will chastise you severely,” the gardener continued. 

Solomon, the wisest of the wise of Israel, says: ^ He that 
spareth the rod, spoileth the child,’ and to pluck this 
brand from the burning before it is too late, it exliorteth 
me to lose no time.” 

He raised his hand to carry out his words as he spoke, 
and Laughing Eyes saw on her part also there was no 
time to be lost. It was a desperate situation, and re- 
quired desperate measures, so she gave a little snip with 
the scissors she still carried in the fleshiest part of the 
limb covered by his nether garments. 

An expression altogether out of the code of John Knox 
came from between the gardener’s teeth, and involunta- 
rily releasing his hold on the child’s shoulder, she slipped 
like an eel from his side. 

When she thought she was at a safe distance, however, 
she stopped. 

Oh, what a bad word you said!” she exclaimed. ^‘I’m 
afraid you’re an awful wicked man.” 

Ye child of the deil!” the gardener shouted, mak- 
ing a spring toward her as he spoke, but Laughing Eyes 
also set her little legs in motion, and scampered off as 
fast as she could. 

No sooner had she escaped one danger than she en- 
countered another, and turning the end of a hedge ran 
right into the arms of the nurse. 

‘^Oh, you naughty girl!” the woman cried, catching 
her hand, ^^you must come along with me this minute.” 

Laughing "Eyes’ spirit was one that it seemed impossi- 
ble to subdue by any adversity. 

^^I’m agoin’, ain’t I?” she responded. You needn’t 
kick a feller when he’s down, anyhow.” 


LAUGHING EYES. 


1 « 

The nurse made no reply, and Laughing Eyes began 
to consider with herself. 

She^s taking me to the policeman now, I know,” 
she thought, ‘‘hut I won^t go to jail nohow. Fll just 
have to fool her a little bit, I guess.” 

Then aloud: 

^^Fm awful sorry,” she said, demurely. didn’t 

mean harm, and I think you’re real nice, hut you needn’t 
hold my hand so hard, you hurt it.” 

The nurse, who was really a good-natured woman, be- 
came mollified at once. 

If I let go of your hand,” she said, will you walk 
along with me, like a good little girl?” 

The changed tone had its effect at once, and the laugh- 
ing eyes looked truthfully into the woman’s face. 

Honest, I will,” she said. 

I don’t care if they do take me to jail,” she said to her- 
self, a minute later. A person’s got to live till they die, 
anyhow, and it can’t be much worse there than at old 
Moll’s.” 

With which philosophical view of the affair she walked 
beside the nurse until they reached the house, and up the 
stairs to a room on an upper floor. 

Now,” said the nurse, am going to shut you up 
here where you will be out of mischief, till the missus 
comes home, and if you make any noise I’ll send the 
policeman right up to take you away.” 

Laughing Eyes’ indignation at the trick thus played 
upon her, kept her from speaking for a moment or two. 

I think you’re the meanest, nastiest thing ever was, 
I do,” she broke out at length. You’re worse than old 
Moll Higgins, and she’s the meanest thing in the world; 
but it’s all right, and I’ll get even with you yet, see if I 
don’t. You’re a sneak, that’s what you are. Fie, for 
shame. Sneaky — sneaky — sneak! Bah!” 

The sound of the door as it was closed and locked on 
the outside, cut her short in her declamation, and stand- 
ing in the middle of the room, she looked around her. 
The apartment was a sort of lumber room, and for some 
time the child enjoyed herself immensely in examining 
every article it contained, until at last she came upon 
something that caused her to clap her hands with pleas- 


LAUGHING EYES. 


17 


Oh, won't that be perfectly splendid she cried; 
^^jiist like what Ike Smith was telling ns about the 
school. Won^t I get even with the nasty old thing now ? 
Oh, no! may be not.^^ 

The cause of her delight was an iron pot full of soft 
soap, evidently laid there, for safe-keeping, until it should 
be needed by some of the housemaids, and dipping her 
little hands into it, Laughing Eyes began to smear it all 
over the floor directly in front of the door as it opened. 

Hardly had she got it spread out to her satisfaction, 
than a step was heard on the stairs. It was the nurse, 
who having overstepped her instructions, thought it 
might be as well to release her little prisoner before her 
mistress returned home. 

No sooner had she opened the door, however, and 
laid her foot on the soaped planks, than she suddenly 
came down into a sitting position, with a force that 
made everything in the room tremble. 

This was the opportunity Laughing Eyes desired, and 
before the nurse could regain her feet, with an irrepress- 
ible cry of triumph she slipped past her and ran down- 
stairs. 

The door of a room at the foot of the staircase was 
standing open, and this she entered. 

It was an elegantly furnished apartment, and conceal- 
ing herself under the skirt of a dress hanging in the 
wardrobe, the door of which stood open, she bad hardly 
taken up her position when the two young ladies. Miss 
Laura and Miss Matilda, entered the room. 

They were evidently quarreling about something, and 
both their faces were flushed and angry as they crossed 
the floor and stood by the open window. 

I tell you I will,^^ Miss Matilda said. 

I say you sha'nT,’^ her sister responded. 

You nasty thing!’^ 

If you say another word, ITl slap your face!” 

By this time the nurse had also entered the room. 

Young ladies, if you please ” she began. 

^^You mind your own business,” snapped Miss Matilda; 

she IS mean. Take that now, you mean thing, and 
slap my face if you want to !” • 

As she spoke, she gave her sister a push with her hand, 
sending her reeling a few steps backward. The next 


18 


LAUGHING EYES. 


moment sne had lost her baiance and hun<y suspended 
out of the window by the skirt of her dress, which had 
caught upon the projecting ledge of the casement. 

For a moment or two both the nurse and Miss Matilda 
stood to , lerrified to move, but Laughing Eyes, who had 
watched the whole incident, sprung from her place of 
concealment, and caught the girFs dress with her little 
hands. 

In the terror of her situation, the girl caught Laughing 
Eyes about the neck with her arms, dragging her for- 
ward. 

The next moment, feeling she was also falling, she re- 
leased her hold, and caught the window sill. 

It was too late, however, to save Laughing Eyes, for 
she had already lost her balance, and fell with a dull 
thud to the ground below. 

By this time the nurse had recovered her self-posses- 
sion, and seizing the still half-suspended girl, she dragged 
her safely back into the room, and then, accompanied by 
the rest of the household, who had been aroused by the 
girFs cries for help, rushed into the garden to the aid of 
the orave little girl who had saved the otheFs life at the 
peril of her own. 

She lay just where she had fallen on the grass-plot be- 
neath the window, without life or motion. The nurse 
raised her in her arms, and with the tears running down 
her cheeks, spoke coaxingly to her, but the lids lay heavy 
over those merry, laughing eyes, and the poor little face 
was pallid to the very lips. 


CHAPTER IV. 

WHICH IS BOTH TEKDEE AHD THREATEHIHG. 

For a moment or two it seemed to Mrs. Goldwin as if 
she must faint. Recovering herself, however, by a vio- 
lent effort, she continued to gaze at him, still in a be- 
wildered way, for a moment or two longer. 

I thought yon dead!” she gasped, at length. 

The sardonic smile that had curled the man^s lips 
upon her first recognition of him still lingered about 
them. 

The supposition was not unnatural under the circum- 
stances, madam,” he answered, in the same sarcastic tone 


LAUGHING EYES. 


19 


he had used at first. Other people beside yourself have 
imagined the same thing.” 

He paused as if merely responding to a simple ques- 
tion, and, with a feeling that she must say something or 
her agitation would utterly overpower her, Mrs. Goldwin 
went on. 

Then the report of the loss of your yacht with all on 
board in the Mediterranean was a mistake?” she asked. 

A mistake and not a mistake. The yacht and all the 
crew were lost, but, clinging to a spar, the following 
morning I was picked up by a passing vessel.” 

And since?” 

Since, I have traveled a great deal in the east. Part 
of the time in Africa. Anywhere, in fact, where I 
CO old forget the world^s boasted civilization and the hol- 
low usages of the society that governs it.” 

As she looked at him, a sigh involuntarily left the lady^s 
lips. 

How the years have changed you,” she said. 

Yes,” he answered, in some things I am changed. 
In appearance, for instance. In others, such as my scorn 
and hatred of the human race and my desire for venge- 
ance for the unmerited wrongs I have suffered, my 
nature has only been more strongly developed.” 

As she looked at him and saw how iron gray the hair 
that had been as dark as a raven's wing when she had 
seen him last had grown, how the high, white forehead 
was wrinkled, and the crows' feet of care and melancholy 
brooding had set their stamp about his eyes, a feeling of 
pity for him shot through her heart, and her voice was 
filled with sorrowful regret as the next words left her 
lips: 

And all these weary years I have mourned for you us 
dead!” 

He did not answer. His brows were set, and his eyes 
sought the ground as if in deep thought. As she looked, 
in spite of herscdf, all the love she had once borne him 
came back to her. In spite of herself, she yearned to 
once more throw herself upon his breast. 

‘^Oh, Louis, it was cruel!” she cried. Why did you 
not come back to me?” 

Again a frown gathered on his face, again his voice 
grew stern. 


20 


LAUGHING EYES. 


^^Oome back to you?'’' he echoed. After you had 
made me an assassin 

But, Louis/' she almost wailed, you were too hasty 
in your judgment. It was a mere harmless flirtation 
with the marquis when I was little more than a child, 
and when I had never even seen your face. I loved but 
you alone, and I watched and prayed for your return until 
all hope was dead in my heart." 

Yet you are now another man's wife?" 

‘^‘^True," she answered, ^^but it was only when ten 
weary years had passed, and I deemed you dead." 

A great agitation seemed to be moving the man's 
breast, but he made no response. 

^^Had you come back before that time," she went on, 

I would have gone with you to the world's end, shar- 
ing the bitterest poverty, disgrace and infamy, if need 
be, yet happy in the knowledge that your love was 
mine." 

But I was an assassin." 

Though your hands were dyed in blood, and the 
brand of Cain was stamped so all men could see it upon 
your brow, I would have done it." 

A light not there before had sprung to life in the man's 
eyes, but still he did not speak. She seemed to have cast 
all prudence to the winds. It was as if her buried love 
had once more risen, phoenix like, from its ashes, and 
burned with redoubled power. 

‘^‘^Do you doubt me?" she cried. I swear I would 
have done so." 

At these words, all the emotion he had been struggling 
t' repress, broke out in spite of his endeavors. 

‘'Alice/' he said, “ we were both to blame. I more 
than you, and it is just that upon me the punishment 
has fallen heaviest. You still are young, and I still 
have wealth sufflcient to make a dozen men more than 
rich. Come with me, and my life shall be devoted to 
atoning for the past." 

All the passion had fled from Mrs. Goldwin's voice and 
manner, and a shudder ran through tier as she answered. 

“I cannot," she said, so low as to be scarcely audible. 

" Consider, Alice." 

I cannot," she repeated, more vehemently. "Why 


LAUGHING EYES. 


31 


should I bring disgrace upon those who have shown me 
nothing but kindness 

^^But remember you are still my wife/^ 

I was, I am not now. The time that passed since I 
first believed you dead, before I married again, had made 
me a widow in the eyes of the law.'’^ 

Alice, he said, after a moments pause, and in a 
voice quavering with emotion, pity me. I came for 
vengeance. I relinquish the desire that has burned in 
my breast for twelve long years, and instead, once more 
ask you to bestow your love upon me and let me have a 
chance to atone. 

For a moment the passion throbbing in her heart al- 
most overcame her resolve. A woman loves but once. 
After loves may come, but they are only a dim reflection 
of the first, and cherished for its sake, and her love for 
Louis Hayle had been the one great passion of her life. 
For a few moments more her passion struggled with her 
sense of duty, but duty at last was the victor. 

I cannot, she said. We cannot change what has 
been. You say you love me still. Is it the way to prove 
it to ask me to court disgrace and shame 

His voice still was low and pleading as he answered. 

Disgrace and shame, he repeated. Yes, in the 
eyes of the selfish, narrow world, that has always spurneh 
me for faults not my own, but to you and me, what does it 
matter 

Louis,'’^ she interrupted, it is my world, the world 
in which I live, and I cannot do what you wish. Though 
you were to kill me I would not do it.'’’ 

The man’s head sank upon his breast in an attitude of 
utter misery. The woman’s heart, already full to break- 
ing, was touched almost beyond endurance, and advancing 
a step nearer to him she laid her hand on his. 

Louis,” she said, gently, there can be no happiness 
in a guilty love such as ours would be. Let us part for- 
ever ” 

He started back as if she had struck him a sudden 
blow. 

Do you mean to mock me?” he cried, fiercely. 

There was such a wild glare in his eyes as caused her 
to start back with a sudden fear lest the years of brooding 


22 


I iUGHING EYES. 


over his wasted life and his meditated revenge had made 
him mad. 

I did not mean to do so/^ she faltered, through her 
tears. did not 

Then you will not have my love?” 

^^It would be a sin. I cannot.” 

Then you wish to have me as an enemy?” 

No, Louis. I ask you to try and forget your hopeless 
passion, and let me think of you as a dear — dear friend.” 

A fierce oath came crashing from between Louis Hayle^s 
teeth. 

‘^Bah!” he cried. friend! I speak of love, and 

you would, rjdng me down to the level of a mere acquaint- 
ance. I ask for bread and you give me a stone. ” 

‘^You forget,” she was again beginning through her 
tears, when he again interrupted her. 

I forget nothing,” he said. I have offered you my 
love and you have chosen my hate. The vow of twelve 
years’ ago, when I swore for every pang your faithless 
love had cost me, you should feel a similar one, has yet 
to be fulfilled. All these twelve years of bitterness I 
was willing to forget, and once more offered you my 
love. Once more you have spurned me, and this time I 
will keep my word. It may be in a week or it may not 
be for years, but sooner or later you will feel my venge- 
ance, and then you can refiect at leisure that it was in 
your power to have averted it and you would not. Ke- 
member it, and when the day comes expect no mercy, but 
for the present, allow me to bid you adieu.” 

Raising his hat and bowing with overstrained polite- 
ness as he uttered the words, he turned on his heel and 
walked rapidly away, leaving Mrs. Gold win standing 
there, her face pallid as death, and motionless as if sud- 
denly turned to stone. 


CHAPTER V. 

WHICH CONTAINS THE ACC DUKT OF A BANQUET. 

With poor little Laughing Eyes’ unconscious form 
raised tenderly in her arms, and with tears of pity in her 
eyes, the nurse returned to the house. 

Carrying her up-stairs to the nursery, she laid her upon 
a bed, and while waiting for the arrival of the doctor. 


LAUGHING EYES. 


23 


for wliom a messenger had been dispatched, laved her 
brow with cold water to try and restore her to conscious- 
ness. 

The care was not without effect, and in a few moments 
the child opened her eyes, and gazed in a dazed, bewil- 
dered way around her. 

Oh ! ainT you splendid now, doggie?'’^ she murmured, 
her mind evidently wandering; ^‘^just like Bill Dike's 
dog, with a big mane and tail." 

The nurse looked compassionately from the child to 
the circle of gaping-mouthed servants standing around. 

Poor little thing," she said, she's clear out of her 
mind." 

That such was indeed the fact was evident; for more 
than half an hour longer she continued to talk in an in- 
coherent way of Bill Dike and his dog, and old Moll Hig- 
gins, and her son. Jack, and all the other characters fa- 
miliar to her limited experience. 

When that time had elapsed, however, the doctor who 
had been sent for had arrived, and under the influence 
of an opiate administered by him, she was soon slumber- 
ing peacefully. 

She did not awake until tlie following morning, and 
then her large blue eyes again opened, and gazed in a 
wondering way around the room. 

Soon, however, recollection of the incidents of the 
previous evening came back to her, and she asked ear- 
nestly: 

The other girl, she did not fall out, did she?" 

Ho, child," the nurse answered, ‘^you saved her, and 
you are a real good little girl." 

A wistful look was in her large blue eyes as she asked 
the next question: 

And was the pretty lady glad?" 

Yes, dear, and she forgives you cutting the picture 
and spoiling it, and for cutting all the hair off of Fido, too, 
although that was very naughty, indeed, but she knows 
you will not do so again." 

The child clapped her little hands together, and the 
merry, laughing look rippled in her eyes again. 

^"Oh! I'm so glad," she cried, "'that the pretty lady 
is not angry; but wasn’t you scared when you saw me 
looking out of the picture? Oh, no! perhaps not." 


24 


LAUGHING EYES. 


A merry langli broke from her lips at the recollection, 
but she suddenly checked it and became grave, as if con- 
sidering a weighty question. 

I don’t like Fido so well as Towser. Towser’s twice 
as nice, and that’s Bill Dike’s dog’s name. He’s a stun- 
ner, he is. Suppose we call this doggie, Fido Towser? 
That will be just like Mrs. Morton’s little girl, for she’s 
got two names. She’s called Anna Maria.” 

The nurse hastened to reply that as far as she was con- 
cerned she had no objection to the amendment, and then 
Laughing Eyes announced her determination of getting 
up at once, and in a few minutes she had done so; when 
washed and dressed in the clean new clothes the nurse 
had provided, she presented quite a different appearance 
from what she had done on the previous day when the 
banker’s wife had brought her home with her. 

There was one thing, however, that all the washing 
and combing in the world could not change, and that was 
the saucy, piquant face, and the expression of her spark- 
ling, laughing eyes. 

She was now a fixture in the banker’s household, for 
Mr. Goldwin had learned from his wife the story of how 
she had saved his daughters life at the risk of her own, 
and under the influence of her different surroundings, 
and the kindness she received on all hands from Mrs. 
Goldwin down to the servants, she soon became much 
less of a little savage than she had been. 

There was one relic of her previous life, however, to 
which she clung with stubborn determination. 

This was the dilapidated sunbonnet she had worn 
when Mrs. Goldwin had first seen her picking berries by 
the roadside, and neither threats nor promises could in- 
duce her to relinquish it, until at last they were obliged 
to let her have her own way, and wear it triumphantly. 

Since the afternoon on which she had saved one of 
them from a probable death, the Misses Laura and Ma- 
tilda was much more condescending in their behavior 
toward her, but Laughing Eyes shunned their society as 
much as possible, and formed a collection of pets for" her 
own companions. 

In a few days these amounted almost to a small 
menagerie. 

First among them was the poodle, now transformed 


LAUGHING EYES. 


25 - 

into the semblance of a lion, and whom she never ad- 
dressed without ceremoniously using his double appella- 
tion of Fido Towser. Then came the cat, who had been 
his opponent in the memorable fight in the carnation bed, 
and who, it had since been discovered, had a juvenile 
family of four kittens, whom Laughing Eyes also took 
under her protection. A couple of chickens that had 
been rendered orphans by an unprovoked assault of Fido 
Towser upon their mother, also came in for a share of her 
care. 

Though these comprised her especial favorites, several 
calves and a donkey of dissipated appearance who rejoiced 
in the name of Neddy, and a parrot much given to the 
use of profane expressions, who belonged to one of the 
grooms, also received part of her attentions. 

The vivacious manner and quaintly odd sayings of the 
child soon made her a favorite with everybody, even to 
the old Scotch gardener, with one exception, and that 
one was the butler. 

He was an old man of nearly sixty, with snow-white 
hair and a pompous manner suggestive of some high 
clerical dignitary — a bishop at the very least. He had 
been a servant in the bankers family, and that of his 
father before him, for nearly forty years, and he from 
the very first assumed a high and haughty manner with 
the child. 

Instead, however, of having the intended effect of in- 
spiring Laughing Eyes with awe of him, it had the very 
opposite one upon her belligerent spirit, and by the time 
a week had passed she had grown to look upon him as 
her natural enemy and the legitimate butt of all her 
jokes, until the butler began to think she must have been 
sent by his evil genius expressly to torment him and 
make him the laughing stock of the rest of the serv- 
ants. 

This Laughing Eyes lost no opportunity of doing, 
until the old man's life became almost a burden to him. 

One evening as she was passing through the hall with 
her especial favorite, Fido Towser, in her arms as usual, 
she saw the door of the dining-room standing open, and 
peeping in, she saw the table laid out for dinner, and 
fairly groaning with the magnificence of the plate upon it. 

The cold entrees were also laid in their proper positions, 


26 


LAUGHING EYES. 


and as slie looked, a more mischievous expression even 
than usual came into her eyes, and she laughed aloud at 
the idea that had entered her mind. 

^^Oh, Fido Towser,’’ she whispered, know lots of 
fun we can have. Won^t old Grulf-and-Tough be hop- 
ping mad, though. I'll fix him, though — you bet I will. 
Oh, it^s perfectly splendid 

She scampered off as she spoke, as fast as her little legs 
would carry her to the yard, where the feline mother and 
her four kittens had their bed, and taking them up in 
her arms, as well as the coop containing the orphan 
chickens, she made her way back to the dining-room, the 
cat following at her heels, unmindful, in the unknown 
danger her maternal fears presented to her mind, of the 
presence and the belligerent attitude of her natural enemy, 
Fido Towser. 

Her eyes fairly dancing with her anticipated fun, she 
drew three chairs up to the table, and placing a footstool 
upon one at the head of the table, on one of the others she 
placed the poodle. 

^^How, Fido Towser,^’ she said, shaking her finger at 
him, warningly, ^‘^you must be a good doggie, and sit still 
and not ask for anything till you’re helped. Mind, 
now, if you do I’ll be angry, and send you to bed without 
any supper, and I won’t speak to you any more, never 
again.” 

The poodle was quite content to be obedient, and with 
his nose resting on the edge of the table, he waited 
patiently while Laughing Eyes laid the four kittens in 
a dish on the table, and then placed the cat on a chair 
before them, opposite to the one in which the dog was 
seated. 

Having thus arranged them to her satisfaction she 
opened the door of the coop, and releasing the chickens, 
allowed them to wander at their own sweet will over the 
table-cloth. 

At the sight of the chickens the eyes of the cat began 
to dilate, and she crouched upon the chair as if meditat- 
ing a spring, while Fido Towser, also becoming restless, 
raised his fore paws on the edge of the table and stood 
watching her every movement. 

All the preparations being now made for the banquet. 
Laughing Eyes climbed upon the stool to do the honors. 


LAUGHING EYES. 


27 


Unfolding the napkin that lay beside her plate, she 
tucked it under her chin, and then proceeded to attend 
to her guests. 

Taking up a piece of bread with one hand she crumbled 
it on the cloth for the benefit of the orphan chickens, 
and seizing a huge slice of ham in the other she laid it 
upon Fido TowseFs plate. 

Just at this moment the butler entered the room, carry- 
ing a tray full of glasses in his hands. 

To say he was astonished at the scene that met his 
eyes would be but feebly to describe his sensations. Per- 
fectly paralyzed with amazement, the tray dropped from 
his hands with a crash to the ground, while an expression 
of dismay left his lips. 

The cat, probably fearing for the safety of her offspring 
at the hands of this new intruder, sprung upon the table 
beside them, while Fido Towser, probably taking her 
action as an overture of defiance, also leaped upon the 
table and seized her by the neck with his teeth. 

The cat, with a vicious yowl, turned at bay on the in- 
stant, and for the next few seconds such a scene was 
presented upon that dinner table as was probably seldom 
seen before or since. 

At last the butler, recovering his presence of mind, 
made a spring toward the author of all this mischief. 

You little imp of darkness,^' he cried, “ Fll break 
every bone in your body!'^ 

He promised what he never was destined to perform, 
however, for Laughing Eyes, quickened to a sense of her 
own peril, and acting upon the theory that self-preserva- 
tion is the first law of the universe, seized a dish of 
lobster salad from the table and dashed the contents in 
his face. 

Her aim was better than she could have hoped, and a 
yell of pain left the butlePs lips, while his hands went 
up in vain endeavor to scrape some of the vinegar from 
his eyes, and profiting by his discomfiture. Laughing 
Eyes stepped from her seat aiid out into the hall. 

All the rest of the servants, however, had by this time 
been aroused by the sound of the breaking glass and the 
butleFs cry of pain, and as she passed through the door 
she ran right into the nurse’s arms. 

A glance at the debris of the dinner service, and the 


28 


LAUGHING EYES. 


palpable misery of the butler told the story without need 
of words, and Laughing Eyes was at once marched off in 
disgrace to the nursery. 

You bad, wicked, naughty child, the nurse said, 
shaking her soundly as she spoke. You will certainly 
come to be hanged if you go on in the way you are 
going, and now you shall go straight to bed without any 
supper. 

The threat had no terrors for Laughing Eyes. 

I donT care if I am liung,^'’ she answered. I won’t 
go to bed, and I will have some supper, and don’t you 
forget it. I’m going to run away, that’s what I’m going 
to do.” 

^^And a blessed good riddance, too. I’m sure,” the 
nurse said, going out as she spoke, and locking the door 
behind her. 

Left alone. Laughing Eyes stood still and considered for 
a moment or two. 

Wasn’t it fun, though?” she said, her eyes sparkling 
again at the recollection. But I’m not going to stay 
shut up here all night. I know what I’ll do. I’ll just 
climb out of that window and hide, and make believe I’ve 
run away, and give that nasty Jane a scare.” 

There was a vine climbing up the wall, past the window 
of the nursery, which was on the second floor, and grasp- 
ing it firmly with her little hands, in a few moments 
Laughing Eyes stood in the garden below. 

^^How smart you were!” she said, sarcastically, ad- 
dressing no one in particular, but I’ll give you a scare 
you won’t forget. Won’t I? Oh! no, maybe not.” 


CHAPTER VI. 

WHICH TELLS OF A SECRET BROUGHT TO LIGHT, FOL- 
LOWED BY A TRAGEDY. 

Herbert Goldwih was a lucky man. He was one of 
those fortunate individuals who are spoken of as having 
been born with a silver spoon in his mouth. The only 
child of his parents, he had, shortly after he came of age, 
found himself the sole heir to a fortune counted by the 
millions, and the representative of one of the highest 
standing names in commercial circles in the United 
States. Since that time, without any exertion on his 


LAUGHING EYES. 


29 


part, money had flowed in to him until his original fortune 
had become almost quadrupled. 

A slow, somewhat dull-witted man, it is probable that 
had he been thrown upon the world on his own resources, 
the highest position he would ever have risen to would 
have been a clerk in some banker^s office; but with the 
reflection of his father’s name around him and his father’s 
money at his command, he was looked up to as an au- 
thority upon all matters of flnance. 

In social circles he was regarded with too much awe to 
be very popular. There was in the minds of most people 
a feeling of too much respect for the possessor of so much 
wealth to allow of much familiarity. Then, also, his 
manner was reserved and distant, and his remarks few 
and far between, although when he did speak his words 
were grave and sonorous, and as some one said, had a 
rich, metallic ring. 

Yet there had been a time, it was whispered, for several 
years before liis father’s death had placed him in posses- 
sion of his colossal fortune, when he had known what it 
was to encounter poverty in its hardest aspects, and work 
for a weekly pittance much less than that he now put into 
the collection box on Sunday, to keep himself from starva- 
tion. It was but a rumor, and might be true or might not, 
just as might have been the added information that it had 
been on account of a young lady that his father had been 
estranged from him and disowned him as his son for five 
years comprising the period mentioned. No one knew 
for certain, however, and it was more than probable that 
the whole story was a piece of gossip, but people chose to 
believe it true. It was so much more according to what 
should have been, and it invested the shrine of Mammon, 
at which he was the officiating high priest, with a little 
halo of romance lent by the incense from the altar of 
Cupid. 

Whether it was true or not, however, it was equally a 
thing of the past, and for the last twenty years his life had 
been open to the public eye. He had married a wealthy 
heiress, who had borne him two children — the Misses 
Laura and Matilda — and had died a few montlis after the 
birth of the latter. After nearly six years of a widower’s 
life, he had married again, this time Miss Alice Lyle; but 


30 


LAUGHING EYES. 


more than two years had passed, and no children had 
come to him by his second union. 

At Goldwin Hall, and during the season at his house 
in the city, he lived in an almost princely way; but few 
guests visited the house. Neither Mrs. Goldwin nor 
himself was fond of company, and the guests for the 
most part consisted of men connected with him in a busi- 
ness way, whom he occasionally invited to dine. 

About a week after the evening on which Mrs. Goldwin 
had learned the fact that Louis Hayle still lived, her hus- 
band had ordered that a dinner should be prepared with 
especial care, as he was going to bring a guest with him 
from the city that afternoon. 

^^His name is Louis Stanhope, my dear,^^ he informed 
Mrs. Goldwin. He is an Englishman, but has been a 
great traveler all his life. He strikes me as being rather 
eccentric; but he is a perfect gentleman in his manners, 
and his wealth is almost incalculable. 

It was to welcome this guest that the table had been so 
carefully laid, at which Laughing Eyes had given her im- 
provised banquet to her pet's. 

All traces of the mischief she had caused, however, 
were speedily removed, and by the time the banker 
and his guest arrived at the house, the dinner was 
ready to be served, as if the incident had never hap- 
pened. 

As the banker and his guest entered the drawing-room, 
Mrs. Goldwin arose smilingly from her seat to welcome 
them ; but suddenly the smile vanished from her face, 
leaving it pallid as death to the very lips. 

In the Mr. Stanhope who was her husband’s guest, she 
recognized her former lover, and husband for a few short 
hours — Louis Hayle. 

His face was calm and passionless as if cut out of mar- 
ble, but to Mrs. Goldwin there seemed to be an evil, 
mocking light in his eyes that told her his scheme of 
vengeance had begun. 

She felt as if she must faint, but a remembrance of 
her position recalling her to her senses, the introduction 
passed off without the banker noticing anything unusual 
in her manner. 

As she took his arm to be escorted to the dining-room, 
she could not repress a shudder running through her. 


LAUGHING EYES. 


31 


and her eyes meeting his, she saw a look in them that 
told her, as he had said, she could expect no mercy at 
his hands, that his heart was as cold as a stone, and piti- 
less as fate. 

The dinner passed off well enough, the guest doing 
the largest share of the conversation, with a manner and 
in a way that showed a thorough knowledge of the world 
in all its manifold phases, and that, though bitterly cyn- 
ical, had a certain fascination for his hearers. 

To Mrs. Groldwin the feeling was something akin to 
that of a bird fascinated by the beautiful eyes of a ser- 
pent, who, though knowing its peril, cannot escape from 
its subtle charm; yet when the dessert was removed and 
she was enabled to retire, leaving the gentlemen alone to- 
gether over their wine, she felt that much more of the 
agony she had endured must drive her mad. 

1 cannot bear it,^’ she cried, pacing up and down the 
elegant drawing-room with her hand pressed wildly to 
her forehead; cannot. Death itself would be pref- 
erable."’' 

After a while, however, she became calmer, and 
when an hour or more had elapsed the gentlemen joined 
her 

The wine he had drunk seemed to have flushed the 
banker’s face a little, and his manner was more effusive 
than usual, but that of his guest was as icily polite and 
courteously impenetrable as before. 

am sorry you must leave so soon,^’ Mr. Goldwin 
said. “ Cannot I induce you to remain for the night 
and take the early train to town with me in the morn- 
ing?” 

“It is impossible,"” his guest answered. “It is imr 
perative I must take the ten-o’clock train, and I see I 
have barely half an hour to spare."*' 

“Let me order the carriage to take you to the sta- 
tion?” 

“ It is quite unnecessary. It is hardly fifteen minutes’ 
walk.” 

“ Then you will at least allow me to accompany you?” 

To this the guest made no objection, and Mr. Stan- 
hope bidding his hostess adieu with ceremonious polite- 
ness, the two men strolled slowly through the park toward 
the road leading to the station. 


32 LAUGHING EYES. 

Watching their retreating figures until they were lost 
to view among the trees, Mrs. Gold win left the drawing- 
room and proceeded to her own cliamber. 

The air was close and sultry, and her head throbbed as if 
it must burst; and throwing a light lace shawl over her 
shoulders, the banker^s wife again descended the stairs, 
and entering the library, passed through the French win- 
dow-out upon the lawn. 

Meanwhile little Laughing Eyes had been enjoying her 
liberty to the utmost. She had seen Bill Dike, and tri- 
umphantly told him she also had become the possessor of 
a dog of leonine appearance, and she had started off with 
Ikey Smith to a neighboring farm upon an apple-stealing 
expedition. She could have had as many as she wished 
at the Hall, but then they were not half so green as 
these, while there was no danger of being caught to add 
a zest to their flavor. They had both come away with 
unripe fruit enough to make them sick for a week after- 
ward, and nothing had marred her pleasure except the 
fact that Fido Towser had not accompanied her; until at 
last, feeling very tired, and thinking she had punished 
the nurse sufficiently for her harsh treatment of her, she 
determined to return and slip quietly to bed. 

As she climbed over the fence into the park, and was 
passing through a thick grove of evergreen trees, the 
sound of voices, evidently raised in anger, fell upon her 
ears, and, her curiosity excited to the utmost, she crawled 
nearer, until, peering cautiously through the bushes, she 
was able to see the speakers in the moonlight. 

One of them was a man she had never seen before, but 
in the other she at once recognized Mr. Goldwin. 

What you ask is worse than madness,^"' the banker 
was saying. The stock is not worth the paper it is 
printed upon, and yet you. wish me to sink a million in 
the scheme. Once for all I will not do it.^^ 

‘^Then,^^ the other answered, “the scandal -loving 
world will have a rich treat in the true history of the 
cause of Herbert Goldwin the banker’s estrangement 
from his father. It will learn that this man it delights 
to honor and hold up as a pattern to youth is a criminal 
— a forger — a ” 

“ Fiend!” the other cried, springing toward him with 
outstretched hand as if to seize him by the throat, but 


LAUGHING EYES, 


88 


the other warded off his attack as easily as if he had been 
a child. 

Silence, foolT’ he hissed, did yon not hear a noise?” 

Laughing Eyes walked to hear no more. She knew 
the noise that had attracted the man’s attention was the 
snapping of a twig beneath her feet, and jumping up 
hastily she ran off as fast as her little legs would carry 
her, until she reached the house, panting and breathless. 

They didn’t catch this child that time,’’ she said, 
with a grin of satisfaction at her escape, and then she be- 
gan to consider the best means of getting into the house 
without being seen. At last she decided to climb up by 
means of the vine by which she had descended, and grasp- 
ing the limbs firmly with her little hands, in a few min- 
utes she had crawled in at the window. 

She found tlie room empty, but the door stood open, 
and another smile of the utmost pleasure spread over her 
countenance as she took off her clothes and hid them un- 
der the little cot where they could not be seen. 

They’ll think I’ve run away now, sure,” she chuckled, 
^‘^and they’ll be hunting me all over creation. Ain’t it 
jolly?” and hugging herself at the idea, in a few minutes 
she was fast asleep. 

The hours went by as the child slept on, dreaming of 
her pets, and recollections of the pleasures of the past 
day mingling with anticipations of similar ones to come, 
while the moon streamed in its rays upon the floor with 
the same placid, mellow light with which it fell beside 
the banker’s sleep-forsaken couch. 

It sank lower and lower eastward in the heavens until 
the stars began to pale one by one, and the steadfast star 
of morning alone remained. 

The dawn broke cold and pallid, but not so cold and 
pallid as was the face of a man lying among the ferns and 
wild flowers in the shadow of the evergreen grove that 
skirted the road, with his life welling slowly from a cruel 
wound in his breast. 

The face was the one that after twelve years had arisen 
before Mrs. Goldwin like an avenging specter of the past. 
It was that of the man Laughing Eyes had seen talking 
with the banker on the previous night — the face of Louis 
Hayle, 


34 


LAUGHING EYES, 


CHAPTER vn. 

m WHICH THE MYSTERY IS A MYSTERY STILL. 

Say, Bill, what can be the matter with the dog?’^ 

The speaker was one of two men walking along the 
highway, passing by the thicket of evergreen trees in 
which Laughing Eyes had overheard the conversation be- 
tween the banker and his guest on the previous night. 
From their dress and the implements they carried they 
were evidently farm laborers going to their day’s work, 
for as yet the sun was not half an hour high. 

As he spoke they both paused and looked at the ani- 
mal. He had been running on ahead of them with occa- 
sional dashes into the fields on either side, after the man- 
ner of dogs in general, and a few moments before had 
leaped the fence and struck into the evergreen thicket. 
Now he came bounding out again, and giving mouth to 
a melancholy whine, seemed trying to attract his master’s 
attention to the spot. 

“ Looks as if there was something the matter in yon- 
der. He knows more than many a Christian, that dog 
does. We had better go and see what it is.” 

The other, the first speaker, looked at the sun. 

We’re late already, as it is,” he said. 

What does it matter if we are?” his companion an- 
swered. Half an hour more or less ain’t agoin’ to make 
or break us, and I’m going to see what’s the matter.” 

He had already begun to climb the fence as he spoke, 
and the other, after a moment’s hesitation, followed him. 

With his tail between his legs and still whining mourn- 
fully, the dog led the way to the spot where the mur- 
dered man was lying. 

The two men started back and gazed at the motionless 
body before them, and then at each other with looks of 
undisguised horror. 

There has been murder here,” one of them said, at 
length. 

As he spoke he knelt beside the prostrate man, and 
placed his hand upon his heart. 

He is not dead yet,” he said, but he is very near 
it. You run as fast as you can back to the village and 
get Dr. Jackson. He is the coroner, you know, and 


LAUGHING EYES. 


85 


ifc is his duty. Be as quick as you can and I will wait 
here until you get back.’' 

He tore open the collar of the unconscious man’s shirt 
as he spoke, and began stanching the wound as well as 
lie could with his neckerchief, but the other still hesi- 
tated. 

"^Why not go up to the hall?” he said. It is 
nearer.” . 

^^No,” the other answered, ^^do as I tell you. This is 
an ugly business, and there’s nothing like doing the 
proper thing. Neither you nor I want to get mixed up 
in it, and Dr, Jackson is the proper man to go to.” 

The idea of being implicated in the probable murder 
was far from agreeable, and the man started oft at a rapid 
pace toward the village without another word, while his 
companion remained with the wounded man. 

After the lapse of more than half an hour the coroner 
arrived with a carriage, and the still unconscious body was 
carried to the village. 

Eestoratives were applied at once, and the wound care- 
fully examined and dressed. It was not in itself a neces- 
sarily fatal one, having penetrated no vital organ, but the 
exposure to the night air and the loss of blood made it 
more than probable it would prove mortal. 

He was soon recognized as having accompanied Mr. 
Goldwin to his house on the previous evening, and the 
banker was sent for at once. 

By the time he reached the hotel where the wounded 
man was lying another character had appeared on the 
scene. 

He was a young man of twenty-five or six, and repre- 
sented himself as Mr. Stanhope’s private secretary. Mr. 
Stanhope had, he said, given him positive orders before 
his departure on the previous evening, that should he 
not return by the morning to at once take the next train 
and learn the cause of his non-arrival. 

By this time also the restoratives applied had begun to 
take effect, and the wounded man opened his eyes and 
gazed around in a bewdldered way. 

“ Ba(;k,” he cried, feebly. Would you add murder 
to your other crimes? It will avail you nothing. Another 
besides myself knows the secret ” 

His voice died away in a gasping sob^ and he again 


36 


LAUGHING EYES. 


sank into unconsciousness, while the banker shook his 
head gravely, with a sorrowful air. 

‘‘ Poor fellow, he said, he is delirious. Tliis is ter- 
rible, and it comes to me with greater force that, though 
he was not a personal friend of my own, but only an ac- 
quaintance in a business way, it was from my house he 
went out to his doom.'’^ 

The doctor, who had been bending over the bed, now 
arose to an upright position. 

You use the right word, Mr. Goldwin,^^ he said, 

for I fear there is no hope.” 

The private secretary, who had been examining the 
pockets of Ins master^s coat, now came forward, and point- 
ing his finger toward Mr. Goldvvin, said in a stern voice: 

Then that man is his murderer!” 

For a moment or two all stood actually paralyzed with 
astonishment at the unexpected charge. 

“ You are too hasty in such an accusation,” the doctor 
said, at length. What proofs have you to sustain such 
a charge?” 

^^Do you need proof ?” the other answered, sarcastically. 

Look and judge for yourself.” 

The banker had sunk into a chair, his whole form 
trembling, and his face, to the very lips, bleached ashen 
as that of a corpse. 

It is false!” he gasped. How dare you accuse me 
of such a crime?” 

By the right of what I know,” the other answered, in 
a significant tone. And of you,” he added, turning to 
the doctor, demand, as the coroner and officer of 
the law, the arrest of that man.” 

'^But, my dear sir,” the other interposed, ^^upon what 
grounds? A mere accusation against a gentleman of such 
social position as Mr. Goldwin amounts to nothing, un- 
less backed by very evident proof.” 

Which I can give,” the young man answered. Mr. 
Stanhope visited him at his most earnest invitation. He 
had with him a paper, that given to the world, would not 
only ruin but bring ineffaceable disgrace upon the banker 
and his family. Knowing this, as well as the character 
of the man, better than the world knows it, and suspect- 
ing that foul play of some sort was hidden behind this 
seeming friendliness, he instructed me, in case of his not 


LAUGHING EYES. 


8 ' 


returning by morning, to lose no time but come on at 
once. Therefore I am here. Let me also add, that al- 
though the crime will not pass unavenged, it was fruit- 
less, for the paper which cost my employer his life, was 
only a copy, and the original is in my own hands. 

An agonized groan broke from the banker’s lips, and 
he started to his feet, his hands clasped in a despairing 
way. 

My God!” he wailed. “ Can this be true?” 

The coroner looked significantly toward the young 
man. 

^‘Mr. Goldwin,” he said, this is a serious charge, 
and I am sorry to say it is my painiul duty to have you 
arrested.” 

Another groan broke from the banker’s lips, but he 
did not speak. 

I hope,” the coroner went on, and do not doubt, 
that it will be merely a temporary inconvenience, and 

that you can explain ” 

cannot,” the banker broke out, wildly. ^^Every- 
thing is against me. I left the house alone in his com- 
pany. We quarreled. I parted with him just at the 
edge of the thicket in wliioli his body was found. It was 
an hour later when I returned to the house, and during 
that I met no one. I am innocent, but the circum- 
stantial proof against me is too strong to be shaken, and 
after all these years disgrace and shame have overtaken 
me at last.” 

A slight movement of the figure on the bed attracted 
the doctor’s attention, and taking the sufferer’s wrist he 
held it in his hand for a moment or two. 

There seem to be symptoms of returning animation,” 
he said, at length. He may recover, even yet, and in 
that case, if, as you say, you are innocent, he will not 
hesitate to testify to the fact, and before his evidence all 
other falls to the ground.” 

No,” the banker answered, shaking his head with a 
gesture of utter despair, ^‘he would not do so. He 
would rather glory in seeing me suffer.” 

The compassion fled from the coroner’s face and tone. 
He no longer doubted that the banker was really guilty, 
and ringing the bell that stood upon the table, two con- 
stables at once entered the room. 


38 


LAUGHING EYES. 


Arrest that man/^ the coroner said. ^"Keep him 
closely guarded, but let the affair be kept as quiet as pos- 
sible until evening, at any rate.'''' 

In an instant the handcuffs were placed upon the bank- 
er’s wrists, and he was led from the room, while the coro- 
ner again busied himself about his patient. 

In less than half an hour two more surgeons who had 
been summoned arrived, and the three held a long and 
learned consultation together. 

The patient’s marvelous vitality had, however, by this 
time begun to make itself shown, and in another hour 
his respiration came heavy and regular in a natural sleep. 

Toward evening he opened his eyes and looked around 
in a wondering way, but a moment or two later recollec- 
tion came back to him. 

^^Ah,” he said, ^^that was a treacherous blow, but the 
villain was foiled ” 

^^Do not excite yourself,” the coroner said, approach- 
ing the bed, ^^for he is already arrested.” 

A look half of wonder, half of anger, came upon the 
patient’s face. 

Arrested! what do you mean?” he said. 

^^The villain who attempted your life; your pretended 
friend, Goldwin ” 

Only his weakness prevented the wounded man from 
springing from his bed as an oath came from between his 
teeth. 

Goldwin!” he repeated. Are you mad? It was a 
man I had never seen before — a tramp. Let Goldwin be 
released at once, I say. The very suspicion is outrageous 
—him last of all men.” 


CHAPTER VIII. 

m WHICH THE BUTLEK’S DIGNITY IS SERIOUSLY COMPRO- 
MISED. 

With the first ray of sunlight that streamed through 
the nursery windows on the morning after h(‘r impro- 
vised banquet. Laughing Eyes awoke, and sitting up in 
her little cot, stretched her hands out to Fido Towser, 
who always slept on the outside of the bed. 

Not finding her favorite there as usual, she was bewil- 
dered for a moment, and then remembering her escapade 


LAUGHING EYES. 


^ 39 


of the previous evening, she broke into a merry laugh at 
the recollection. 

‘^1 wonder are they looking for me yet?’" she said, 

Jane must he nearly wild by this time. Didn't I serve 
her out nicely, though, for being so mean and shutting 
me up?" 

Another rippling laugh left her lips, and springing out 
of bed, she took her clothes from where she had hidden 
them beneath the bed, and proceeded to dress herself as 
fast as she could. 

While she was thus engaged the nurse entered the 
room. 

For a moment she seemed thunderstruck at seeing the 
child, and then her amazement found vent in a volley of 
words. 

For goodness' sake, child," she cried, however did 
you come here? Such a naughty, good-for-nothing little 
wretch I never did see in my whole life. Here you have 
had me and Mrs. Gold win and the whole house crazy 
about you and hunting all over creation, while you have 
been asleep the whole time." 

Laugliing Eyes put her finger in her mouth and as- 
sumed a demure expression. 

Little girls should always go to bed early," she said, 
didactically. 

Yes, but you wasn't in bed," the nurse cried, contra- 
dicting her former assertion, and driven into a corner by 
one of her most frequently used precepts being thus 
turned against her. was up here, and hunted in 

every hole and corner for you, and so did Mrs. Goldwin, 
and not a speck of you was to be seen. However did 
you get out of the room when the door was locked?" 

The same way I came in again." 

And how was that?" 

Riddle me, riddle me rout, 

That’s for me to know and you to find out,” 

Laughing Eyes chanted mockingly, and making a sudden 
spring, darted past the nurse and out into the hall with- 
out any shoes or stockings on, and her dress but partially 
buttoned, and down to the yard where her pets were 
kept. 

On her way she met Fido, who wagged his tail in token 


40 


LAUGHING EYES. 


of recognition, and, lifting him in her arms, she carried 
him along with her. 

Oh! you nice, dear little doggie,” she cried, kissing 
his cold, black nose, ‘‘did you think I was lost? Wasn^’t 
it lots of fun we had last night, and wasn't old Gruff-and- 
Tough hopping about it? but you missed all the fun 
we had after that, me and Iky Smith. Oh! Fido, 
you ought to have been there. It was just perfectly 
splendid. But it ain't any use being sorry now, you 
know.” 

With this philosophical wind-up to console the poodle 
for the good time he had missed, she reached the yard, 
and went first to the barrel where the cat was rearing 
her family, and then to the coop containing the orphan 
chickens. 

To her great satisfaction she found they were all quite 
well, and then she proceeded toward the field where the 
calves and Neddy, the dissipated-looking donkey, were at 
pasture, to assure herself of their welfare. 

Having also calmed her mind upon this important 
point, she was returning slowly to the house with Fido 
Towser now trotting leisurely at her heels, when she saw 
an evident commotion among the servants gathered about 
the kitchen entrance. 

Drawing nearer, she saw that a man, whom she recog- 
nized at once as one of the inhabitants of the village, was 
relating something that caused his hearers to utter ex- 
pressions of horror and astonishment, and quickening 
her pace to a run she joined the listening group, and 
heard the story of the finding of the body of Mr. Gold- 
win’s guest of the previous evening, lying murdered in 
the wood. 

As she heard it the child's face grew very pale indeed, 
and she turned and walked away in the direction of the 
pasture she had just left. 

Arrived there she looked all around to assure herself 
there was no one in sight, and then sitting down in the 
shelter of the fence slie took the poodle on her knee. 

“Now, Fido Towser,” she said, shaking a warning 
finger at him, “ I know yen can't speak and can't tell no 
one else, but I know who killed the gentleman. It was 
Mr. Gold win did it, I know, and if they was to catch him 
fbeyM h^,ng him, but I'll neyer tell no one^ because it 


LAUGHING EYES. 


41 


would make Mrs. Goldwin sorry, and if ever I do, Fido 
Towser, I hope I may die, and if you don^t bite me as 
hard as ever you can Pll never speak to you again. 

After thus registering lier vow of silence and appoint- 
ing Fido Towser the agent of punishment should she 
break it, her mind felt more at ease; but she was unusually 
silent the whole of the day, and did the nurse^s bidding 
with a meekness tha^t made her open her eyes in wonder; 
but when later in the day the news came that Mr. Gold- 
win^s name was beginning to bo mentioned with suspicion, 
she whispered tearfully to the poodle: 

It aiuT no use after all, for they^ll hang him sure, 
and the pretty lady will be awful sorry.'’' 

When evening came, however, and the news arrived 
that Mr. Stanhope had quite exonerated the banker from 
the least shadow of suspicion, she scampered into the 
garden, and seizing Fido by the fore paws, caused him to 
accompany her in an improvised waltz. 

Oh, Fido Towser!" she cried, ain't the gentleman 
a brick, though? Fm awful glad he isn't dead, but I 
know he just said Mr. Goldwin did not do it because he 
did not want to make the pretty lady sorry. Ain't he 
nice?" 

Her conviction as to the banker's guilt evidently was 
not shaken in the least, but considering as long as her 
patroness was not to be made sorry, it didn't matter 
whether it was so or not, her spirit of mischief seemed to 
break out with redoubled force on account of the tempo- 
rary anxiety that had weighed upon her mind. 

As may be imagined, the feeling between the con- 
sequential butler and herself had not grown any warmer 
on account of tiie banquet to which she had treated her 
pets, and the disli of salad thrown at himself. 

His manner now became even more tyrannical and 
disagreeable than before, and Laughing Eyes only longed 
for another chance to play another trick on him. 

Such an opportunity was not long in coming. 

One sultry day, about the middle of the afternoon, 
as she was passing by his pantry, she was attracted by a 
noise issuing therefrom as of some one snoring heavily. 

Peering cautiously through the chink of the door which 
was standing ajar, she soon learned that the sound pro- 
ceeded from tiie lips of the butler himself, who was 


42 


LAVGHINO EYES. 


sound asleep. Evidently the heat of the day liad over- 
powered him, and he sat with his arms folded comfort- 
ably before him, unmoved by the flies that wandered 
over his bald head, and slumbering in placid unconscious- 
ness. 

No sooner had Laughing Eyes seen him than an idea 
came into her mind that set her into a perfect fever of 
delight. 

Whispering a few words explanatory of her design to 
her chosen friend and confidant, Fido, she ran as fast as 
she could until she reached the stables. 

In a few moments she returned, carrying a coil of 
slender cord, and with her eyes fairly dancing with mis- 
chief, crept noiselessly on tip-toe to where the butler still 
sat asleep. 

Fastening one end firmly to the leg of the chair she 
began to wihd the rope about his legs, arms, and body, 
until in a few moments she had him firmly tied with as 
many coils as would have held a pair of wild horses. 

Nodding in a delighted way at Fido Towser, who sat 
placidly superintending the operation, she again left the 
room only to return in a minute or two with a huge piece 
of charcoal in her hand. 

With these she proceeded to adorn his face, until in a 
few seconds it was a sight to behold. 

There were lines upon his forehead and around his 
eyes, and while a huge mustache adorning his upper lip 
gave him the look of a most disreputable pirate, the 
general expression of his countenance resembled nothing 
nearer the Fiji Islands. 

Drawing back, with her head on one side, and regard- 
ing the effect with a critical look, Laughing Eyes added 
a broad streak down his nose and a few minor touches 
upon his cheeks, and then, laying down the charcoal, she 
picked up the newspaper that had fallen from the butleFs 
hand before he had dropped asleep. 

Fashioning this into a gigantic fooFs-cap she placed it 
on his head, and then, dragging a chair directly in front 
of him, she crossed the room to where a mirror nearly as 
high as herself was standing against the wall, where it 
had probably been put on account of a crack across it, 
and exerting all her strength, she lifted this upon the 


LAUGHING EYES. 


43 


chair and leaned ifc against the back, so that he could see 
himself in it the moment he opened his eyes. 

Hardly had she got all these preparations to her satis- 
faction than the bell upon the wall rang, summoning him 
to the drawing-room. 

Awakening witli a start, no sooner had his eyes fallen 
upon his own reflection in the mirror opposite, than, with 
a cry of amazement, he attempted to spring from his 
seat. 

The cord Laughing Eyes had wound around him, how- 
ever, held him fast, but so genuine had been his surprise, 
not unmixed with terror, that he lifted chair and all clear 
three or four feet from the ground. 

The next instant chair and butler came crashing to the 
floor with a force that made everything in the room 
tremble, and brought a perfect shower of fragile glass- 
ware falling about the unlucky wretch’s head. 

A yell, that would have done no discredit to a Choctaw 
Indian, rose from his lips, while Laughing Eyes rippled 
out in peal after peal of derisive laughter, and danced 
about the floor in irrepressible glee. 

Even Fido Towser appeared to relish the situation, and 
he began to bark the loudest he knew how, every now and 
then making vigorous little darts forward and snapping 
viciously at the prostrate butler’s legs. 

By this time the rest of the servants had rushed to the 
spot, attracted by the butler’s cry, and the noise of his 
fall, but no sooner did they set eyes upon the ludicrous 
picture he presented than they also went off into tits of 
irrepressible laughter. 

As for the hapless butler, he was perfectly frantic, and 
almost foamed at the mouth, at thus having his dignity 
compromised, and himself once more made the laughing- 
stock of the servants, but the more he kicked and 
struggled the more the spectators laughed, until the tears 
were running down their cheeks. 

As soon as they recovered themselves sufficiently, how- 
ever, they released him from his bonds, and no sooner 
had they done so than he made a dash for the door. 

Where is the little wretch that did it?” he cried, per- 
fectly beside himself with fury. If I catch her I’ll kill 
her on the spot!” 

But Laughing Eyes had vanished, and was in the stable 


44 


LAUGHING EYES. 


relating the incident to the groom, the happy possessor 
of the parrot, who delighted in slang, and who, balanc- 
ing hims<‘lf on the railing of a stall, listened to every 
word, and then snapped ont: 

Put him on ice. He^ll be all right in the morning.” 


CHAPTEE IX. 

IK WHICH MR. STAKHOPE’s POWER BEGIKS TO SHOW 
ITSELF. 

For several days the wounded man lay in a precarious 
condition, llis death or recovery was equally uncertain, 
and the turn of a hand might almost decide either way. 

Of course, upon his emphatic denial of the banker be- 
ing the man who had struck the murderously intended 
blow, Mr. Goldwin was released at once, and the coroner 
was profuse m his apologies for having ordered his arrest. 

The banker received the regrets most courteously, say- 
ing the coroner had but done his duty, but the fact of 
his release did not seem to remove the load of anxiety 
from his mind, and he returned home looking an older 
man by twenty years. 

Perhaps, besides himself, no one but his wife knew the 
real cause of Ins dejection, and she only suspected it. 
She alone knew the oatli of twelve years before that had 
again been repeated by her former husband, and she 
knew Louis Hayle too well to imagine for a moment he 
would falter in his purpose. 

She did not love her husband, but she respected him, 
and strove in all things to be to him a true and faith- 
ful wife. Banish the love from her heart that it still 
cherished for Louis Hayle, nothing but death could do. 
Still, her duty pointed out the way to take. It was to 
cnce more appeal to the man who, though he professed 
still to love her, had sworn to follow her with his relent- 
less hate, and ask liim, if his vengeance must fall, to let 
it be on her alone, and not involve her husband, who had 
never wronged him, in ruin and disgrace. 

Accordingly, after passing a sleepless night, on the fol- 
lowing morning she ordered her carriage, and drove to 
the hotel where the sick man lay. It was not looked 
upon as strange that she should do so, and people only 
spoke of it as an act of thouglitful courtesy to the guest 


LAUGHING EYES. 


45 


who had so nearly met his death after leaving her hus- 
band^'s house, and before he had even left the grounds. 

As she entered the room in whicli he lay, his private 
secretary, who had been sitting beside the bed engaged 
in writing, in obedience to a look from his master, arose 
and left the room, leaving the lady and the wounded man 
alone. 

You must pardon me, madam, he said, in a tone 
icily polite, ‘'‘'for not rising to receive you, but under the 
circumstances it is impossible.'’^ 

Mrs. Goldwin drew nearer the bed and laid her hand 
pityingly on his. In spite of herself, at the sight of the 
only man she had really ever loved lying there helpless as 
a child, she could not repress the look of loving pity that 
came into her face. As the man felt her hand touch his 
a shiver seemed to run through his frame, but he did not 
speak. 

Louis,” Mrs. Goldwin said, pleadingly, ^^why will 
you not relinquish your scheme of vengeance? I have 
never wronged you even in my thoughts. If you will not 
abandon the idea of revenge, let it fall on me alone, and 
do not include in it my husband, who has never wronged 
you.” 

For a moment or two he still was silent, 

'' Alice,” he said, calmly, at length, the only venge- 
ance I desire is to be allowed to devote my life to your 
happiness — to have you as my own once more and atone 
for the past. Say but one word, and you make me your 
slave forever.” 

''Louis!” she cried, wildly, "I have told you I can- 
not.” 

" Then, Mrs. Goldwin,” he answered, in a freezing 
tone, '‘ allow me to offer you a thousand thanks for the 
visit of sympathy with which you have honored me. 
Will you pardon me if I have to trouble you to touch the 
bell upon the table?” 

Without a word the lady drew down her veil to hide 
the evident traces of agitation upon her face, and touch- 
ing the bell as requested, almost instantly the secretary 
entered the room. 

In silent grief Mrs. Goldwin drove slowly homeward. 

For a little while she was nearly frantic with agonized 
doubt as to whether the course she was pursuing was the 


46 


LAUGHING EYES. 


right one. Might it not be better, she asked herself, to 
accept the love Louis Hayle offered her, and leaving the 
banker in peace, bear all the obloquy and disgrace upon 
her own shoulders? It was only a moment or two, how- 
ever, and then the conviction returned with redoubled 
force that the way slie was following was the true one, 
and she must leave the result in the hands of Providence. 

No sooner had she left the room than the secretary re- 
sumed his interrupted writing, while Louis Hayle, or 
Stanhope, as it now pleased him to be called, lay in utter 
silence until the other had finished and placed the paper 
in his hands. 

It is quite correct,^’ he said, at length, when he had 
carefully perused it. Have you sent for him yet?’’ 

Before the secretary could reply a knock was heard 
upon the door, and the young man, arising, and opening 
it, the banker entered. 

have had the paper of which I spoke prepared,” 
Stanhope said, giving it into the hand of Mr. Gold win, 
who took it with a repressed groan, and ran his eyes in a 
terrified way over the contents. 

Be good enough to ring for the landlord,” Stanhope 
resumed, addressing the secretary, 1 wish him to wit- 
ness Mr. Goldwin’s signature.” 

An expression of dismay broke from the banker’s lips. 

The secretary had, however, already rung the bell, and 
in a minute or two the landlord entered the room. 

‘MVe have an agreement for the sale of some storks,” 
the secretary said, addressing him, and we wish you to 
append your name as witness to Mr. Goldwin’s signa- 
ture.” 

The landlord expressed his perfect willingness, and with 
trembling fingers the banker seized the pen to write his 
name. So agitated was he, however, that the perspira- 
tion stood in huge drops upon his brow, and he had to 
pause an instant before he could steady his hand enough 
to form the letters. 

That is all that is required,” Stanhope said, when the 
landlord had also affixed his name. And now, as I and 
Mr. Goldwin have some private business to transact, I 
should be pleased if you will leave us alone together.” 

He placed the document beneath his pillow as he spoke, 
and as the door closed behind the secretary and the land- 


LAUGHING EYES. 


47 


lord, Mr. Goldwin sank into a chair in an attitude of the 
most utter despair, while by a great exertion Stanhope 
moved himself so that he could look into his face. 

'‘Now let us talk about the shares/^ he was beginning, 
when his voice died away in a choking sob. Probably the 
exertion of moving had been too much for his strength, 
and the pain had caused him to once more swoon away. 

The banker started from his seat, but he did not at- 
tempt to summon assistance. Instead a hectic flush came 
upon his cheek and he started from his seat. Evidently 
a desperate resolve had taken possession of him, and he 
reached forth his hand to where the document he had 
just signed lay beneath the unconscious nian^s pillow. 

Before his fingers could clasp upon it, however, the 
door opened and the secretary entered. There was a 
half sarcastic smile upon his face, and the hanker with a 
smothered exclamation of disappointment, sank once more 
into his seat. 

Restoratives were at once applied, and in a short time 
Mr. Stanhope again became conscious. 

“ It was an extra twing of pain, I suppose,” he said, 
■with an effort that showed the agony it cost him to speak 
calmly. " And now, Mr. Goldwin, let us resume our in- 
terrupted conversation about the shares. Draw your chair 
up closer.” 

The banker did as he was desired, and for more than 
half an hour the two continued to talk earnestly to- 
gether. 

The result cf their conversation was seen two hours 
later, when Mr. Gohlwin^s confidential clerk received a 
telegram from him to tiie following effect: 

" Buy a miilioiPs worth of shares in the Royal Peruvian 
at any price, instantly. Telegraph when negotiation 
completed.” 

"He must be mad!” the clerk ejaculated, as he read 
it. " The company is on its last legs, and though the 
quotations are still kept up, in a week the shares will not be 
worth the paper on which they are printed. But as the 
order is imperative, I suppose it must be carried out.” 

Evidently Mr. Stanhope was using his power without 
mercy. 


48 


LAUGHING EYES. 


CAPTER X. 

IN WHICH TIME HAS WKOUGHT ITS CHANGES. 

We must now pass over a period in this history. 

A lapse of five years has taken place since the incidents 
recorded m the previous chapters. 

Five years! In that time what changes may not have 
taken place! Time enough for Lazarus to sit in the seat 
of Dives, and for the rich man to lie among the dogs by 
the outer gate; for the keenest grief to have been ex- 
perienced and subsided into resignation; for our dearest 
and nearest to have departed from us, and lying in their 
placid graves, the sorrow of their loss become but a misty 
memory. 

At Goldwin Hall, the changes have not been so marked. 
The same master rules there, and in the pale, sad face of 
Mrs. Goldwin, there is but little difference to when it 
looked out of her carriage, and espied the little sunburnt, 
roguish face peering mischievously from among the 
blackberry bushes. A little sadder and more careworn 
than then, perhaps, and a wrinkle or two beginning to 
show more distinctly, but that is all. 

It IS m the rising generation that one must look for 
the most marked evidence of the march of time. When 
we have reached a certain period between the ages of 
thirty-five and fifty, a year or two does not make so much 
difference as at a dozen years earlier or later. 

Tlie two Misses Goldwin, Laura and Matilda, have out- 
grown their awkward manners, and developed into fair 
specimens of young ladyhood. Not overshadowed with 
talent, perhaps, but well enough versed in all the showy 
accomplishments to elicit the praise from eligible young 
gentlemen of ‘^stunn'iig fine girls. 

But in the tall, stately young lady, with the nimbus of 
golden hair clustering around her forehead, the type of 
one of Tennyson’s heroines, who would have recognized 
the little bare-footed girl who had picked berries by the 
roadside, and aftei ward became the despair of her nurses 
and the enfant terrible of the household? 

Everything about her was changed, with one exception. 
The nut brown hue the sun had given her skin was re- 
placed by that pf the lily; her romping, girlish manner 


LAUGHING LYES. 


49 


had given place to a calm, dignified grace in every action, 
but nothing could change the expression of her eyes, ever 
sparkling with innocent mirth and laughter. 

She was now always addressed as ^'^iss Isabel. The 
banker's wife had, with her husbano s assent, formally 
adopted her, and bestowed upon her the name that be- 
fore her marriage had been her own. 

Mrs. Goldwin never liad cause to regret the stop she 
had taken. No children had blessed her union with the 
banker, and pouring all her affection upon the girl as if 
she had been her own, the love was returned with more 
than filial gratitude. 

Every one loved her. Even the old butler, whose 
dignity she had so seriously compromised, could not long 
resist her cheerful, winning ways, and old Moll Higgins, 
under whose not over-tender mercies her earlier childhood 
had been passed, was not insensible to the coals of fire the 
girl heaped upon her head by the many little acts of 
thoughtful kindness for her welfare she had performed. 

Yet it must not be supposed she had developed into the 
recognized type of a model young lady. Her spirit of 
fun and mischief was just as acute as it had ever been in 
her childhood, and her presence was like a gleam of sun- 
shine in the dullest company; but sometimes, when she 
was alone, tlie laughing eyes would grow thoughtful, and 
siie would long for an opportunity to still further show 
her gratitude to her benefactress. 

Wild and romantic some of the probabilities that pre- 
sented themselves to her mind may have been, perhaps, 
but sometimes the reality outdoes our wildest imaginings 
in this world in which we live. 

On this pleasant September evening, when our narra- 
tive again takes up its broken thread, she stood by the 
drawing-room window, making a picture an artist would 
have loved to transfer to canvas as the type of all that 
was pure and innocent in ma denhood. There was a pen- 
sive look now in her deep blue eyes, and the rays of the 
sunset, falling about her, crowned her regal head with its 
falling wealth of golden hair as with a halo. 

As she stood thus, with folded hands, gazing through 
the openings of the trees in the park towaid the dusty 
highway in expectation of seeing the carriage approach 
containing Mrs. Goldwin and her two step-daughters, 


50 


LAUGHING EYES. 


who had driven to the railway station to meet the banker, 
her mind was busy with the past. As almost forgotten 
incidents will, sometimes, after the lapse of years, per- 
sistently haunt the memory, the remembrance of the at- 
tempted murder of Mr. Stanhope, and her childish con- 
viction that Mr. Goldwin^s hand had struck the nearly 
fatal blow, had come back to her mind. The mystery of 
that night had never yet been cleared up, but still re- 
mained a mystery. 

Thoughts unformed, vague and shadowy, floated 
through her mind in a curious way for which she could 
not account. A fatalist, or one affected with supersti- 
tious fancies, might have seen in the circumstance a 
warning of coming danger; but the girFs mind was too 
innocent and well-balanced for such fantastic ideas, and 
arousing herself from her reverie and walking away 
from the window, she seated herself at the piano and 
tried to divert her thoughts with music. 

She had a natural talent for music, and played with 
both feeling and expression. As her fingers ran over the 
ivory keys, she became absorbed in the melody that 
awoke beneath them, until she heard the sound of 
wheels on the graveled road before the house. 

Arising from her seat she approached the window and 
looked out. As she did so, in spite of herself, her former 
thoughts came again rushing through her mind wdien she 
saw that the banker had not arrived. 

A word or two, however, from Mrs. Goldwin, explained 
it. He was unable to come by the afternoon train, be- 
ing detained on business, but ho had sent a message not 
to be alarmed if he did not return until morning; and 
with a smile at her own folly, the girl reseated herself at 
the piano and resumed her interrupted music. 

Could she have seen the banker then, as he sat in his 
office, though she might have been puzzled as to its 
cause, she could not have denied that her presentiment 
had not been groundless. 

The five years that had made such a change in her own 
appearance, had made even more, but in a far less kindly 
way, in that of the banker. Instead of five, he looked 
an older man by twenty years. His hair was blanched to a 
snowy whiteness, his form was bent, and there was a nerv- 
ous, terrified look in his hollow eyes, pitiful to behold. 


LAUGHING EYES, 


51 


His whole manner and expression was not that of a man 
made old by years, but of one over whom a terrible ca- 
lamity was impending which he was powerless to avert. 

Gould it be that ruin was staring him in the face? To 
the public at large the name of Goldwiii was sviionymous 
with wealth as that of a Rotlischild or an Astor. Within 
tne past five years he had departed from the laws that 
had ruled his financial ventures throughout his previous 
life, and plunged headlong into the most gigantic specu- 
lations. On some, of course, he had lost money, but 
others were known to have been more successful than the 
most sanguine calculations could expect, and the amount 
of wealth amassed by them almost fabulous. Even in 
the most astute financial circles, his credit had not de- 
teriorated, and his name was good for an almost unlim- 
ited amount. 

What, then, could be this terrible secret that had 
made him old before his time, and caused him to sit as 
he now sat at his desk, with his face buried in his hands 
before him, in an attitude of utter despair? Perliaps the 
only person who could rightly answer this question, was 
the man who sat opposite, leisurely puffing a cigar, with 
a look upon his face such as one might imagine the feat- 
ures of Mephistopheles to have worn while gloating over 
his pupil. 

It was long past the usual banking hours, the gas was 
b^ing lighted in the streets, and the bank had been 
closed for the night. Only Mr. Goldwiffis confidential 
clerk, who sat in the outer office, had remained, waiting 
until his employer should be ready to leave, and he it v^as 
who now knocked at the door with a telegram in his 
hand. 

With fingers trembling with eagerness, the banker 
clutched it and was about to tear it open. Restraining 
himself, however, by a visible effort, he reached for an 
envelope lying upon the desk before him, and with hands 
trembling with emotion, sealed it. Then once more 
taking the telegram, he opened it and read its contents. 

As he did so, his face blanched to an ashen hue, and he 
clutched in a wild way at his heart. Again recovering 
himself, however, he turned to the clerk. 

^^You need not wait any longer, Walton,” he said. 

I shall probably remain an hour or two yet, but will not 


52 


LAUGHING EYES. 


need your assistance. As you pass the office you can post 
this. It must go to-might without fail.” 

He gave the envelope he had sealed into his hands as' 
he spoke, and the clerk, bidding him a respectful good- 
night, withdrew. 

As he heard the sound of the key turning in the outer 
door behind him, the banker handed the telegram to his 
companion. All trace of his former agitation had left 
him, and his voice was measured and calm. 

Now, are you satisfied?” he asked. 

The man addressed shrugged his shoulders as he read 
the words. 

So the regency is firmly established again?” he said. 

I do not wonder at it. To say the least, it is a risky 
business furnishing money to carry on a revolution. 
What do you mean to do next?” 

The banker started from his seat in a perfect paroxysm 
of fury. 

What do I mean to do next?” he repeated. ^'It is 
you, Louis Stanhope, as you call yourself, though I some- 
times think you must be the arch fiend in person, who 
must answer that question. You know the loss of the 
millions invested in this scheme of yours has ruined 
me.”_ 

Aou do me too much honor by the suggestion of my 
Satanic origin,” Stanhope answered, with a huigli, as he 
knocked the ashes from his cigar. ‘‘I admit the sug- 
gestion of the investment was mine, and had the revolu- 
tionists been successful, you would have doubled your 
money. As it is, it is lost. Nothing to do now but try 
again, and hope for better luck next time.” 

But I tell you I am ruined. I have not five thousand 
dollars I can lay my hands upon. To-morrow, when the 
news reaches the exchange, there will be a run upon the 
banks, and my name will not be worth the paper of the 
notes to which it is affixed.” 

In that case, then, I suppose there is nothing left but 
a graceful bankruptcy.” 

The calm, sarcastic tones with which the words were 
uttered seemed to goad the banker into a perfect frenzy. 

‘‘Bankruptcy!” he echoed. “You know that is im- 
possible. You know that every security upon which I 
could raise a dollar has been disposed of. And it is you — 


LAUGHING EYES. 


53 


fiend that jqu are — who have driven me to this; but 
though you were the arcli fiend himself, you shall not 
escape free.” 

With a wild cry like that of some rabid animal, he 
sprung at Stanhope’s throat, but before his hands could 
fasten upon their hold, the other had seized them and 
held them fast in a vise-like grasp. 

You are naturally excited this evening,” he said, in 
tones as calm as if he were discussing some trivial inci- 
dent. Take the night to calm yourself, and I will 
speak to you to-morrow. As you are not going home to- 
night, let it be earlier than usual, say nine o’clock.” 

Keleasing his hold as he spoke, he turned upon his heel 
and walked out of the office, while the banker again sank 
into his chair in his old apathetic attitude. 

He had sat there without the slightest motion for 
probably a quarter of an hour, when a knock came upon 
the door and the janitor entered. 

Arousing himself from his apathy, Mr. Goldwin told 
him he intended to remain in the office all night, and on 
no account to disturb him again. 

No sooner was he once more alone, than, opening a 
drawer in his desk, he took from a secret compartment a 
snmll bottle containing some dark liquid, which he looked 
at in a strange, dispassionate way. 

‘‘It has come at last,” he said, in a hoarse whisper. 
“It is the only means of escape left me. Oh, had I but 
done it sooner, what years of agony I might have been 
spared !” 

His tone was that of most utter despair. 

They were the last words he ever spoke. Withdrawing 
the cork he raised the vial to his lips, and swallowing the 
contents, with the empty bottle still clinched in his hand, 
his head once more sank on the desk before him. 

The great cloek in the outer office and the miniature 
one upon the desk on which he lay, kept time with those 
throughout the city, clanging the hours as the night 
jDassed away, but still he did not move. 

The early dawm struggled through the panes, making 
a ghostly twilight in the room, until the first rays of the 
sun fell warm and golden upon him; but never again 
conld summer sun warm the blood in his veins, cold with 
the frost of deii»th, 


64 


LAUGHING EYES, 


CHAPTER XI. 

in’ WHICH THE VICTOR COMES TO CLAIM THE SPOILS. 

There was great excitement, almost amounting to a 
panic, in financial circles, when the news of Mr. Good- 
win’s utter ruin and suicide became known. It was the 
one engrossing topic of conversation with everybody, and 
to hundreds of hard working men and women, the sav- 
ings of whose lifetime had been placed in his hands, it 
also brought ruin, and the bitter knowledge that all their 
pinching economy to lay by a few dollars for a rainy day 
had been in vain, and that the hope of a comfortable old 
age they li ad striven for, had been snatched from them 
and left them destitute. 

But while such was the case with many of the invest- 
ors, the banker’s own family were not less to be pitied. 
Everything upon which a dollar could be raised, even to 
the horses and carriages and the furniture in the house, 
had been mortgaged, and before a day had elapsed they 
were taken possession of by clamorous creditors importu- 
nate for their money. 

As for Mrs. Goldwin, the blow had been so sudden and 
unexpected, that at first she could hard'y realize that it 
WHS true; but when at last she did so, a perfect frenzy of 
grief overwhelmed her. She alone knew that it had been 
in her power to have averted it, and she now reproached 
herself most bitterly. Though she had not seen Louis 
Hayle since the time, five years ago, when he had so 
nearly met liis death, she knew it was he who had caused 
her husband’s ruin. 

She knew it even without the letter her husband had 
given to his confidential clerk to post, and which she had 
received the following morning, about the same hour that 
his lifeless body had been found. In it he had said: 

I dare not ask you to forgive me, Alice, but I can en- 
dure the Hgony I have suffered for five years past no 
longer. They may tell you 1 have speculated recklessly, 
that I have appropriated money belonging to others, that 
had I not kdled myself I would have ended my life in 
prison. It is true, but do not judge me too harshly. 
I was not a free agent. A sin committed years ago, when 
I was a boy, and for which, when I came into posses- 
sion of my father’s property I strove to make all. tho 


LAUGHING EYES. 


55 


amends in my power, found me out again. It was in the 
vain hope to save the disgrace of exposure, that I was 
hurried still further into disgrace and crime. The man 
who held the knowledge of my sin you met under our 
own roof. His name is Louis Stanhope, and he lias driven 
me to my present state with fiendish restlessness. His 
object in doing so I cannot tell. I only know that upon 
his head rests our ruin and my death. May God forgive 
me, thus taking my life into my own hands, but He knows 
how I have sutfered, and it is for youi welfare that I 
should die. Better you a widow and they orphans, than 
the wife and children of a convict. 1 dare not ask 
you to forgive me, but in the days to come try to think 
as leniently of me as you can.^^ 

To the wife of the dead man, who had no hope in 
this world or that to come, whose fingers had written 
these incoherent words, the last that ever they were 
destined to trace before they were stiffened in death, 
every word pierced like a sharp-edged knife. She knew 
that she. had had it in her power to have averted both 
his dishonor and his doom, by taking the scorn of the 
world upon her own shoulders, and now reproaching her- 
self for having failed in her duty, she refused to be com- 
forted. 

As for the two young ladies. Miss Matilda and Miss 
Laura, they were much shocked at their father’s tragic 
death, of course, but 1 am afraid that the thought of the 
disgrace it reflected on themselves was none the less ter- 
rible in their estimation. Everything, even to the piano 
and pony carriage, was already in the hands of the cred- 
itors, and where even the money wherewith to buy the 
necessary mourning was to come from was a question to 
be unswered. 

Their tears and lamentations, however, were copious 
enough to have convinced any one of the sincerity of their 
grief, and contrasted strangely with the way that Isabel 
received the news. 

The laughing eyes grew very sad and were moist with 
tears, and the tragic event shocked her far more tl.>an 
even perhaps she herself was aware, but she felt that it 
was her duty to be calm, and endeavor to console her 
benefactress in her afifiiction. 

Mother/^ she said, winding her arms about her neck, 


56 


LAUGHING EYES. 


"^you made me call you by that sweet name when I was 
friendless and deserted. Lr^t me prove to you now, dear, 
that I am not ungrateful, and love you as if I really was 
your child.'’^ 

Even in the midst of her great sorrow, a feeling of 
thankfulness came into Mrs. Gold win’s heart that she 
still had this girl to love and feel for her, and with her 
head upon her breast, slie broke into a flood of tears. 

They were the first she had shed since she had read her 
husband’s letter, and they relieved her so that in an hour 
or two she became calmer and was able to think what 
must be done. 

She felt that without Laughing Eyes’ sympathy and 
assistance she must have succumbed to her cruel faie. 
What she would have done without her in this hour of 
trial she could not imagine, for the girl seemed naturally 
to assume the position of adviser at once, and soon began 
to reduce the chaos of tlieir plans into something like 
order; and the feeling of thankfulness in the lady’s 
breast took away the first poignancy of her grief. 

The servants, with one or two exceptions, had taken 
their departure immediately, and the creditor who held 
the mortgage on the estate had given Mrs. Gold win and the 
family a week in which to vacate the hall. Tlieir future 
actions had to be decided at once, and Isabel and she were 
discussing their plans, when one of the few remaining 
servants entered the room with a card, saying the gentle- 
man was waiting in the drawing-room. 

As Mrs. Goldwin read the name of Louis Stanhope, a 
low cry of pain broke from her lips, and she sank back 
in her chair as if she was about to faint. Taking the 
card from her hand, Isabel read the name, and then 
bending, kissed her adopted mother on the cheek. 

"‘Be brave, mamma, darling,” she said, with a faint 
attempt at a smile. “You know you have made me your 
business agent, and I will see him. Now sit where you 
are and promise me you will not stir until I come back.” 

Mrs. Goldwin made a faint negative gesture, but before 
she could speak the girl had opened the door and passed 
down-stairs to the drawing-room. 

Though little Laughing Eyes had grown into a tall, 
stately young lady, her belligerent spirit was the same as 
it had been five years previously. She was the same im- 


LAVGHING EYES. 


57 


pnlsive creature she had ever been, and she had registered 
a vow of vengeance against this man. Now, as she en- 
tered the room where he \7as waiting, her blue eyes 
looked cold and pitiless as steel. 

He stood in an easy attitude, his elbow resting care- 
lessly on the mantel-shelf, and she walked across the floor 
with the carriage of a young empress, till within half a 
dozen feet of him. 

“ Well, sir,’^ she said, surveying him with a glance of 
the utmost scorn, ‘Miow dare you intrude your presence 
here at such a time?” 

He did not answer for a moment or two. A dozen ex- 
pressions, among which wonder and incredulity were 
predominant, passed over his face, and then stepping for- 
ward, he seized her by the arm. 

“ Your name, girl?” he said, in an agitated voice. ** Is 
it ” 

‘^Unhand me, sir!” the girl cried, or I shall call for 
assistance. I do not choose to be polluted by the touch 
of a murderer.” 

The man released his hold, and staggered back a pace 
or two. 

She has told you, then?” he said, his breath coming 
in short, thick gasps. ‘‘She has dared ” 

“ I know it,” the girl answered, “from the last words 
on earth of the man yon drove to his death, I know you 
are guiltless in the eyes of the law; but in the sight of 
God you are an assassin. Again I ask you what is your 
business here?” 

At her first words, a look of relief had come into Stan- 
hope’s face. Now he seemed to regard her with the same 
wondering expression as at first, not unmixed with admi- 
ration. 

“ And I ask you again ” he was beginning, when 

Mrs. Goldwin entered the room. 


CHAPTER XII. 

IX WHICH THE LAUGHING EYES FLASH DEFIANCE. 

The lady’s face was very pale; but there was a look of 
firm determination upon it, utterly different from what 
the girl had expected lo see. 

“Isabel,” she said, in a calm and resolute tone, “please 
leave us. I wish to speak to this man alone.” 


68 


LAUGHING EYES, 


In silsnce the girl did as she was desired. 

No sooner had the door closed behind her than Mrs. 
Hold win advanced to where her visitor was standing. 

Now, Louis Hayle/^ she said, ‘‘tell me the object of 
your visit. Is it that you are not even yet satisfied with 
your treacherous and cowardly vengeance? Is it that 
your fiendish satisfaction coula not be complete without 
gloating over the ruin and misery you have caused?"^ 

Louis Hayle stood in silence fur a moment or two, dumb 
with wonder at her unexpected manner. Her bearing 
was proud and erect, and her eyes flashed with such con- 
temptuous scorn as, in spite of himself, caused him to 
shift his gaze. 

“ No,^^ he said at length; “ I came to repeat my offer 
of sympatliy and assistance that I made five years ago. 
You scorned it then. I ask you if you will accept it 
novv?’^ 

“No, a thousand times no!’^ she cried, vehemently. 
“ I would rather beg my bread from door to door, than 
accept even the smallest favor at your hands!” 

Her scornful vehemence did not seem to rouse his an- 
ger. On the contrary, his voice was almost pleading as 
he answered: 

“ IN ow the only obstacle that stood in the way is re- 
moved. Your husband is dead.” 

“Yes,” she interrupted; “audit was you who killed 
him.” 

“You labor under a great mistake,” he said, calmly; 
“he killed himself. That I held a power over him which 
urged him on to his Inter reckless speculations I admit, 
but this power was nothing more nor less than the knowl- 
edge that this man for whom you cast aside my love was 
a forger — a common criminal, whose just reward should 
have been half a life-time of penal servitude. Would 
you have preferred I should have denounced him as 
such ?” 

He was silent, as if expecting an answer, but none came 
from the lady's pallid lips. She could not doubt that 
this was true. Had not her husband’s dying confession 
spoken of a sin he had committed in his youth, and 
which he admitted was the power that Stanhope held 
over him? 

“ I did not do so,” Louis Hayle went on, after a mo- 


LAUGHING EYES. 


59 


mentis longer pause, because I wished to spare you the 
disgrace, and I wished to win vou for^-my own. Stay,” 
he added, hastily, as he saw iihe was about to spealc, 
‘'until you have heard me out. You will say that it 
would have been better then, since it has come to dis- 
grace and ruin at last. It is not so. When all your 
husband’s creditors are paid, the feeling of the world will 
be one of commiseration for his reckless act, not of 
harshness for his crime.” 

She looked at him, the wondering expression deepening 
on her face, but did not speak. 

“Had I wished I could also have had him placed in 
prison for an attempted murder. Ilis was the hand that 
struck the blow among the trees yonder that nearly cost 
me my life. If you doubt my words, I have his confes- 
sion, signed before witnesses, to prove what I say.” 

She did not doubt him. A thousand circumstances, 
unheeded at the time, now rushed with overwhelming 
force over her mind, filling her with wonder that they 
had not plainly told her so before. By the expression of 
her face the man saw the impression his words had made, 
and it was m a softer tone that he continued: 

“ Twice I could have made you the dishonored wife of 
a criminal, had it been merely vengeance I longed for, 
but it was not. It was your love. Listen, Alice, to what 
I have to say. I am wealthy, as you know. I will take 
upon myself the task of paying every penny of your hus- 
band’s debts, and in such a way that he shall gain the 
credit of the forethought, and instead of the detected 
forger, the foiled assassin that he was, the world shall re- 
vere his memory as a man whose only fault was his own 
scrupulous honesty. I will do this, and the reward I ask 
is but yourself.” 

For a moment or two she stood still in silence, and 
then her repres'ed emotions broke out in sudden fury. 

“Had you used your power and denounced him, then 
I could have respected you. As it is, you excite nothing 
in me but contempt and scorn. An assassin who took a 
treacherous advantage of the privilege accorded to you as 
a gentleman I have knowm you to be for years, and now I 
am not surprised at the means by which you have tracked 
my husband to his death. You are his murderer as much 
as if you had killed him with your own hand. Do you 


60 


LAUGHING EYES. 


think I would take your hand and pretend a love for you 
when there is nothing but aversion and loathing in my 
heart? Never! To escape such degradation I would 
also take my life into my own hands, and seek suicide as 
a means of salvation.” 

The depth of scorn ringing in her tones and flashing 
from her eyes seemed for a moment or two to utterly over- 
power the man whom she addressed. 

His head dropped upon his breast, and his whole atti- 
tude expressed the most utter despair. It seemed for the 
time they had changed places — that she it was who had 
triumphed and he who was at her feet. 

“ Alice,” he said, at length, ‘‘ have some pity upon me. 
I cannot bear such woids from your lips. You know 
the object that animated me, and knowing it, show some 
mercy. I have but one more question to ask you. If 
it is as I imagine, I still will clear your husband^s name 
of every shadow of a stain, and leave you forever in 
peace.” 

More surprised than if he had struck her to the earth, 
Mrs. Goldwin listened. 

‘^Tell me,” he said, eagerly, ‘^who was that girl who 
spoke to me before you entered?” 

‘‘ A child I have adopted as mv own. Her name is 
Isabel.” 

But her parents — who are they? Are they alive?” 

I cannot tell,” the lady answered, surprised at the 
eagerness with wldcli he spoke. "‘She is a waif, with no 
one m tlie world with whom she can claim kindred. 
Her mother died, cared for by the parish, as was the 
child herself until I adopted her.” 

At the answer Louis Ilayle^s agitation seemed so to 
overpower him as to deprive him of speech for a mo- 
ment or two. 

“ Bring her here,” he said, clutching Mrs. Goldwin’s 
arm so fiercely as to cause her to utter an involuntary 
ejaculation of pain. “Tell her to bare her right arm 
above the elbow, that I may judge for myself.” 

Such a wild light shone from his eyes that the lady 
almost feared he had gone mad. After a mementos hes- 
itation, however, she rang the bell, and the girl entered 
the room. 

“Isabel,” Mrs. Goldwin said, in a mechanical way, 


LAUGHING EYES. 


01 


will you please raise your right sleeve above theelbow?^"' 
With a quick glance of apprehension, and almost fear- 
ing that her affliction had turned the lady^s brain, Isabel 
did as she was desired, in silence. 

1 knew I could not be mistaken in the features,” 
Louis Hayle said, more to himself tlian his auditors, and 
then approaching the girl, he made a motion as though to 
take her hand, but she drew it hastily away with a ges- 
ture of the utmost aversion. 

Young lady,” he said, in a tone of forced calmness, 
^^you no doubt think the request to bare your arm a 
curious one, but it has given me the proof I needed. It 
has shown me you are the daughter of a dear friend of 
mine, who now is dead. It has been a sacred trust with 
me for years, when I found you, to adopt you as my 
own child. Everytiiing. that wealth can procure, or 
love lavish upon you, shall be yours. Will you accept it?” 

For a moment or two the suddenness of the proposal 
fairly took the girFs breath away, but soon* a look came 
into the blue eyes that was withering in its scorn. 

^^No! ’ she cried, vehemently; thousand times, no! 
Were you my own father my answer would be the same. 
What duty do I owe my f.ither? He disowned me when 
I was an infant, and left my mother to die a pauper’s 
death; and now do you judge me by yourself, that I would 
desert the only friend I ever had in the hour of her need, 
for the wealth of a stranger and her bitterest enemy?” 

But,” he interrupted, ^^your wealth will be un- 
limited. Such a fortune girl at youi age never had yet. 

You can repay all your friends a thousand fold ” 

‘^And do you think,” she again interrupted him, 
^‘that I would accept anything from your hands — yours, 
upon which is the blood of the husband of my adopted 
mother, but for whom I might now be dead? Never. I 
would beg my bread from door to door, or die of starva- 
tion, before 1 would stoop to do it. I would endure the 
touch of the deadliest serpent rather than your own. 
You have heard what I have to say. There is the door. 
Go!” 

The words seemed fairly to hiss from between her lips 
in the intensity of her scorn, and she looked like some 
offended empress as she stood erect, her outstretched 
finger pointing to the door. 


62 


LAUGHING EYES. 


For a moment Louis Hayie’s face grew perfectly black 
with passion, and then faded to an ashen pallor as, with- 
out a word, he turned and left the room. 

They both defy me/’ he muttered, grinding his teeth 
in impotent rage; '"but I will triumph at last. Though 
you have a poweriui ally in that girl, mark me, Alice 
Lyle, the end is not yet!” 


CHAPTER XIIL 

WHICH TREATS OF ART AND AH UHTOLD LOVE. 

The time the new owner of Goldwin Hall had given to 
the banker’s wife and family to leave it had expired, and 
they had taken their departure. Where they had gone no 
one knew or troubled themselves to inquire. The world 
IS not noted, as a general thing, for interesting itself in 
the movements of the unfortunate and poor. 

Poor indeed they were now. Not only his own fortune 
had the reckldss speculations of the banker squandered, 
but also that which his wife had inherited from her 
father. Everything was gone, and beyond her own 
jewelry and wardrobe and that of the young ladies, they 
had actually nothing in the world. 

Of course they had at once gone to the metropolis. 
Where can those who wish to be forgotten so readily find 
the oblivion they desire as in the populous solitude of a 
great city, where one may live for years within a mile of 
his greatest friend or enemy without once encountering 
him? 

By the sale, at a ruinous sacrifice, of some articles of 
jewelry, a few dollars for present necessities had been 
procured; and they had taken apartments in a quiet part 
of the town and lived with the most rigid economy. 

Save as they would, however, in a painfully short space 
of time the money raised by the sale of the jewelry was 
exhausted, necessitating another visit to the pawn- 
broker’s. A further supply was thus gained, enough to 
last for another month or more, but when that also was 
spent what were they to do next? 

An utter, lethargic melancholy seemed to have come 
over Mrs. Goldwin; while as for the young ladies, the 
Misses Laura and Matilda, they were never tired of com- 
plaining and repining against their hard lot, and bitter in 


LAUGHING EYES. 


G'd 

their reproaches against their dead fatlier, whose fault 
liad left them a heritage of poverty and shame. 

The whole care and responsibility thus fell upon Isabel, 
and she accepted the position bravely, though the sweet 
young face gradually grew pale and anxious, and the 
laughing eyes more wistful in their expression. 

She watched the money as it dribbled slowly away, and 
knew that when it was exhausted more must be procured 
somehow, or they must starve. From Mrs. Goldwin, in 
the listless, apathetic state into which she bad fallen, she 
could expect no advice or assistance, while her step- 
daughters were too busy bewailing their own present mis- 
fortune to give thought to the greater destitution that was 
staring them in the face. 

She felt that it was upon her own exertions the family 
must depend for their bread, and she was quite willing 
that it should be so; indeed, even happy that she was 
thus able to prove her gratitude for the kindness shown 
herself as a child; but between the inclination to work 
and the power to procure it to do there is sometimes a 
great difference, and of this fact the girl soon became 
painfully convinced. 

She registered her name at more than a dozen intelli- 
gence offices where situations were advertised to be pro- 
cured for those in need of them, but the only ultimate 
result was the loss of the registration fee. Sometimes, 
indeed, positions were offered her which she would have 
been glad to accept, but upon her inability to give any 
reference the would-be employer’s manner changed sus- 
piciously, and she was coldly informed that without some 
voucher for her character her engagement was impossible. 
Once or twice when she hesitatingly named Mrs. Goldwin, 
the expression of distrust and suspicion became more con- 
firmed, and the negative more emphatic. 

At first she had answered advertisements in -daily 
papers for governess or companion, but always with the 
same result. The want of reference was an insurmount- 
able bar; while in one or two instances the advertiser was 
of the opposite sex, and she shrank from answering any 
more to avoid repetition of the insults to which she was 
exposed. 

At first she had confined herself to applications for 
situations such as she considered her accomplishments 


64 


LAUGHING EYES. 


qualified her for, but gradually growing to see how utterly 
futile such endeavors were, she tried at last to gain em- 
ployment as seamstress or dressmaker. Here, however, 
another obstacle met her — her inexperience. They could 
not afford to employ beginners when there were so many 
experienced hands eager and ready to take tlie place. 

Meanwhile the last of the money was dribbling fast and 
faster away, and the agonized knowledge that if it were 
not replenished somehow, nothing stood between them 
and starvation, almost drove the girl frantic. At last, in 
utter desperation, she tried to procure even the most 
menial kitchen employment; but here also she was met 
by suspicion. She was far too pretty for such work, 
everybody said, and there must be something wrong about 
her, or she would not apply for it. Besides, she looked 
fragile and delicate, and there were hundreds of strong, 
hardy women to be had for the asking, who had been ac- 
customed to such work all their lives, and could not fail 
to do it better than she could be expected to. 

So the time wore on, heavy with the ‘Miope deferred 
that maketh the heart sick,^' until the time the girl had 
dreaded was very near indeed — until there was but five 
dollars in the house, while the rent would be due the fol- 
lowing week. Either something must be done, or they 
•would be turned into the street, homeless as well as 
friendless, and, with a last forlorn hope in her heart that 
she scarcely dared even to cherish lest it should also be 
disappointed, she one morning bent her steps to an 
intelligence office where her name was still on the books. 

There was a crowd of applicants there before her, and 
modestly withdrawing into a corner to wait until her 
time should come, she w^^tched the eager crowd who were 
there on the same errand as herself. 

The brisk pace at which she had walked had put a 
fresh color in her pale face, and her attention being 
attracted by a couple of lately landed emigrants, one 
from the ould sod” and the other from Germany, who 
were making frantic but futile efforts to understand each 
other, she felt amused in spite of herself, and for a little 
while the old laughing look, so long a stranger, came 
back into her expressive eyes. 

Suddenly she became aware that two gentlemen, who 
had just entered, were regarding her attentively. 


LAUGHING EYES, 


<15 


One of them was somewhat flashily dressed, with 
rather more jewelry than was reconcilable with good 
taste, but the other, though also attired in the height of 
fashion, had a half negligent air about him, bespeaking 
that his good clothes were far from the first consideration 
in his mind. He might have been anything; an author, 
actor, artist, anything where the intellect was the pre- 
dominating force, but certainly not a dandy. 

Speaking a few words in a low tone to his companion, 
he advanced to where the girl was standing. 

“'Pardon me, miss,'Hie said, in a perfectly respectful 
tone, and raising his hat as bespoke, “but may I ask are 
you also looking fora situation?’'’ 

His manner was frank and open, and his words had an 
honest ring, but, nevertheless, the girl drew back with 
an air of reserve. Bitter experience had taught her that 
uninterested offers of help from the opposite sex were 
more than apt to prove delusive. 

“I am looking for a situation, sir,” she answered, with 
an air of quiet dignity, otherwise it is probable I should 
not be here, and therefore, you, as a gentleman, are quite 
justified in presuming upon the fact.” 

Siie drew herself up proudly as she spoke, and a 
hard look came into her deep, blue eyes. Her short ex- 
perience of the world had not been without its temporary 
effect upon her nature, and she was already beginning 
to believe that truth and honor were meaningless words, 
and charity a romantic dream. At her words a sudden 
flush came into the young man’s face, but he answered, 
with a forced laugh. 

“ Believe me,” he said, “ I meant no offense. I only 
thougJit if your time really were unoccupied, you might 
do me an immense favor. I am an artist, and have 
been looking in vain for a model for my Rosalind 
for the past two months. When I saw you first with that 
laughing light in your eyes, I thought I had found the 
very ideal of Shakespeare’s inspiration. Pardon me 
again, if I say that now you more resemble some tragic 
queen.” 

His gav insouciance, and palpable unintention of of- 
fense, that showed itself in every word he spoke, caused 
a little twinge of repentance to cross the girl’s mind for 
her hasty words. 


65 


LAUGHING EYES, 


Excuse me/^ she began. 

need for any apologies/’ he answered. ^^You 
were quite right to snub me for addressing you in the 
way I did. But you know we artists are citizens of a little 
world of our own that the inhabitants of the larger one 
call Bohemia. Frankly, then, I want a model for my 
picture of Kosalind that I am painting for a great 
European international exhibition, and your face is my very 
ideal of what it should be. Will you sit for me to paint 
from? Stay, a moment,” he added, as he saw she was 
about to speak, and not without a certain touch of pride, 

I am a gentleman, even though I am a Bohemian. The 
proposition I make to you I would make to my own sister 
if I had one. If you will only consent,” he went on, 
warming as he thought of his art, you will do me the 
greatest favor on earth. With your face and those 
laughing eyes on canvas, my Kosalind cannot fail to be 
a success.” 

He paused a moment as if expecting an answer, and the 
girl, watching his countenance narrowly, and still not 
without suspicion, at last became convinced that her first 
feeling of distrust was unfounded. 

‘^If I can be of any service to you, sir,” she said, 
simply, I shall be glad of the chance to earn something 
for those who are very dear to me.” 

‘'‘Bravo!” the careless, honest-hearted artist cried, en- 
thusiastically; “ my Rosalind will be a success after all. 
Don’t forget what I told you, and come to-morrow at 
twelve o’clock to my studio. I will want you every day 
for a couple of weeks, and will give you five dollars" each 
time. If it is not enough, say so and I will give you 
more. You will find the address on this card. The 
other is for a retaining fee. Now do not disappoint me, 
for I shall expect you. Good day.” 

He raised his hat as he spoke, and rejoined his com- 
panion, while Isabel, hardly realizing her good luck, stood 
looking at the card he had thrust into her hand. 

It bore the name of Clarence Ford, with the address, 
and accompanying it was a five-dollar bill, which he had 
said was for a retaining fee. 

Many were the conflicting thoughts that occupied the 
girl’s mind that day and the following night. Should she 
'accept the means of thus earning sufficient to relieve 


LAUGHING EYES. 


67 


their wants, or should she return the money he had given 
her, and thus tacitly put an end to the proposition? 
Most of the night she lay awake pondering over these 
questions in her mind, but at last she decided to accept 
it. Why should a false pride stand in her way? Had he 
not told her, had he a sister he would have made the 
same proposal to her? and she believed him to be a 
gentleman, and what he had told her was the truth. 

It was not without many misgivings, however, that the 
following day, at the hour appointed, she made her ap- 
pearance at the address mentioned upon the card. The 
artist received her himself, and conducted her to a little 
dressing-room where were ready for her adoption the cos- 
tume of the Shakespearean heroine as whom she was to 
be represented on canvas. Leaving her there to make the 
change, when it was completed he conducted her to a 
raised dais at one end of the studio, and taking up his 
brushes, began to paint. 

The scene the artist had depicted was where the two 
girls were resting in the shade of the forest, and Rosa- 
lind was chiding her less vivacious companion for her 
want of confidence. The face and figure of Cecilia 
were already painted in; all the adjuncts of the picture 
were executed in a masterly manner, which, to the eye of 
a critic, told at once that if only the piquant Rosalind 
were equal to the rest, it could not fail of being a success. 

No visitors came to the studio while the painting was 
going on. The two were quite alone together, and the 
painter rattled on in a gay and easy manner that had an 
inexpressible charm for the girl. No word, however, 
dropped from his lips, that, as he had said, might not be 
safely spoken before his mother or sister, and the vivacity 
of his conversation, perhaps also aided by the thought 
that she was at last able to earn something to keep the 
wolf from the door, put her in a happier mood than she 
had been since the tragedy that had broken up the pleas- 
ant country home, and sent them forth into the cold 
world to live or die as they best might. 

The painter was delighted. His object in thus en- 
grossing the girl’s attention was once more to call the 
laughing light into those large, expressive eyes that had 
first attracted his notice, and in this desire he succeeded 
beyond his most sanguine hopes. 


68 


LAUGHING EYES, 


If I can only succeed in transferring those eyes to 
canvas, Miss Lyle,” he said, when the sitting was finished, 
^^my picture cannot fail to gain the prize; and if it does, 
I shall owe it all to you.” 

So every day, for nearly three weeks, Isabel went to 
Clarence Ford's studio and sat and listened to his gay, 
light-hearted chatter, while he industriously plied the 
brush, until a feeling stronger than mere friendship be- 
gan to develop in her breast toward him. 

The task of chronicling a maiden's first love is a pro- 
fanity of the subject. It is like the touch of a rude hand 
to the dew-drop on the rose — like the first breath of frost 
to the pure and spotless lily beneath which it droops and 
dies. The feeling does not come at once, but gradually, 
until at last its force is overwhelming, and the heart ac- 
knowledges Love the victor. 

So it was with Isabel Lyle. The knowledge was slow 
in coming and struggled against when it did come, but 
at last she felt she loved him — this gay, careless artist to 
whom she sat for a model, and whose thoughts were 
wrapped up in his art and the picture which he hoped 
would win a prize in the great European exhibition. 

When first she had sat as his model she had feared the 
artist would degenerate into the man, and he would pay 
obnoxious compliments to her beauty. Now her feelings 
were changed, and she regretted his distant attitude to- 
ward her. In her undoubted beauty he seemed to see no 
charm, beyond that of the model who was to make his 
Kosalind famous. 

The knowledge was humiliating, but it seemed too 
true. He did not love her. Even when the picture was 
finished and packed securely in its case for transportation 
across the Atlantic, whither he was to accompany it, and 
he shook her warmly by the hand in bidding her good- 
bye, he did not utter one tender word. Only for an 
instant, when the adieu had been said, he stood, still re- 
taining her hand in his, and his voice assumed an un- 
wonted warmth as he breathed a few words in a more 
earnest tone. 

Still they might not have meant anything. They 
might yet have been prompted by the enthusiastic feel- 
ing of the, artist who hoped that her transferred features 


LAUGHING EYES. 


69 


should live in his picture,, and the next moment he was 
gone. 

And Laughing Eyes, returning to the humble apart- 
ments that were now her home, went to her- own chamber 
and reproached herself for her weakness in suffering her- 
self to love a man who did not care for her, and resolved 
to cast his image out of her heart forever. Yet all the 
time those few last words he had spoken kept echoing in 
her heart with a great, vague, delicious hope: 

In less than three months I shall be home again, and 
I hope my Rosalind will not have forgotten me.^^ 


CHAPTER XIV. 

WHICH CONTAINS ANOTHER EPISODE OF THE PAST. 

Wheh Louis Hayle left Gold win Hall after his once 
more unsuccessful interview with the banker's wife and 
Isabel, he had at once entered the carriage that was in 
waiting and been driven to the station, from whence he 
took the next train to town. 

It was evening when he arrived, and the dusk was 
beginning to fall as he alighted at the door of his aristo- 
cratic mansion on Fifth Avenue. 

■* Harrison," he said to his secretary, when he joined 
him in the library where the young man was busy at work 
before a mass of papers, ^^you will please see that those 
other claims are put in at once." 

The young man bowed and left the room, while his 
master, seating himself in an easy-chair, sank into a fit of 
silent thought. The claims of which he had spoken were 
mortgages upon the hall and the furniture — in fact, 
every article of personal property that the dead man had 
possessed, and dated more than a year prior to those giv- 
ing them to the parties who had taken possession. 

The entrance of a servant with lights, and the an- 
nouncement that dinner was ready, broke upon Hayle's 
meditation. Ordering brandy to be brought, he poured 
out half a glassful of the spirits, and swallowing it, lit a 
cigar, and once more alone again sank into thought. 

His thoughts were bitter ones. He had been triumph- 
ant in so far that he had hounded the man whom he had 
sworn to ruin to his death, but the object for which it 
had been done was as far from accomplishment as ever. 


70 


LAUGHING EYES. 


More so, in fact, for he felt that he had changed any 
lingering love for him in Mrs. Goldwin^s heart into bit- 
terest hate; yet he repeated his vow that she should still 
be his. 

He was not wholly undeserving of pity, this man. His 
nature was not naturally depraved, and in his youth he 
had in him all the elements of greatness. It had been 
his ungovernable temper, aggravated by the unmerited 
scorn of the world, that had ruined him. It is these 
great natures, that when they lose their self-control be- 
come terrible — the more noble in the beginning, the most 
demoniac in the end. Yes, he was to be pitied, for in 
his desire for vengeance upon Alice Lyle he had become 
a monomaniac. Upon that point he was mad. 

Strange to say, however, the scornful refusal of his 
offers on the part of Laughing Eyes had not aroused his 
anger. On the contrary, he admired the giiEs courage, 
and as he now sat in his library watching the smoke from 
his cigar ascending toward the ceiling, a retrospect of 
memory came to him. 

He was a younger man by sixteen years. It was a year 
after his parting with Alice Lyle, and he was coasting in 
his yacht along the shores and among the fiords of Nor- 
way, where, in an old castle that for centuries had over- 
looked the sea from the rocky promontory upon which it 
was built, he had found the last descendants of the old 
line of Scandinavian kings, in the persons of an old man 
and his only daughter. 

In the full glory of her eighteen years, with her eyes of 
heaven’s own blue, and the waves of her hair of burnished 
gold that rippled almost to her feet, she seemed a very 
daughter of the gods, of whom the old bards sang to the 
heroes at their banquets, until the saga roused the blood 
in their veins, and they started to their feet eager to 
perish in the foremost of the fight, that they might re- 
ceive the reward of their heroism in the sight of such 
supernal loveliness in the immortal halls of Odin. 

Shortly after Louis Hayle’s arrival the old man died, 
and the girl was left alone in the world. As one of the 
fabled heroes of whom she had read in those wild, 
northern sagas, the young man wooed her for his bride, 
and they were married. 

In acting thus Louis Hayle was not acting the part of 


LAUGHING EYES. 


71 


a villain. He had taken adieu, as he deemed, of Alice 
Lyl(3 forever. He no longer regarded her as his wife, and 
a non-compliance with some forms of law required by a 
marriage betw^een foreigners upon the Continent, had also 
legally absolved him as her husband. 

Thus the beautiful Norwegian girl was in reality his 
wife, and for nearly a year Louis Hayle knew more of 
happiness than he had done in his whole previous life; 
during which time they sailed along the whole coast of 
Europe, touching at every point of interest, where his 
enormous wealth always secured them a reception not in- 
ferior to that accorded to a sovereign prince. Among 
the classic isles of Greece a daughter was born to them, 
and when the lady was sufficiently recovered, they sailed 
up the Mediterranean, and staying for a month or two on 
the coast of France, crossed the Atlantic to the New 
AVorld. 

Arrived in New York they proceeded to a hotel, and 
passed a week pleasantly in viewing the sights of the 
metropolis. It was their intention to make a tour across 
the continent, but the project was destined never to be 
carried out. Eeturning to the hotel after a few houiV 
absence one day, he found his wife had fled, taking her 
child with her. 

All the presents, the jewels worthy of a place in an im- 
perial diadem, which Louis Hayle had been proud to 
lavish upon her, and even her wedding ring, she had left 
behind. She had taken nothing but a dress belonging to 
one of her maids, and a note lying upon the table ex- 
plained the cause of her flight. By some means she had 
learned the fact of his former marriage with Alice Lyle — 
that she was not his wife. 

The effect of the news upon her husband was terrible. 
His valet found him lying senseless upon the floor with 
the fatal message clinched in his hand. When he came 
to his senses again he at once set detectives to trace her 
flight, and at last their efforts seemed to have been suc- 
cessful. Among the piers, covered with the slime and 
ooze of the river, they found a horrible thing with eyeless 
sockets and grinning teeth, and clasped in its bony arms 
the form of a child of six months old. 

There was no means of identifying either of the bodies 
beyond a few straggling tresses of hair that had been 


72 


LAUGHING EYES. 


golden, while the arm of the child, upon which, above 
the elbow, had been a peculiar mark, was so decomposed 
as to be unrecognizable. 

Louis Hayle did not doubt for a moment that they 
were the bodies of his wife and child, and after erecting a 
costly monument over their grave, he again left the shores 
of the New AVorld that had grown so hateful to him. 
An added bitterness had taken possession of him, and 
an almost insane desire for vengeance upon Alice Lyle, 
to whose unconscious fault he attributed his new mis- 
fortune. 

Who had told liis wife of his previous marriage was 
never known. It could have been no one but his own 
valet, who had found his former certificate among his 
master’s baggage; but if such an idea came into Louis 
Hayle^s mind he did not mention it, but still retained the 
man in his service, until on the return voyage, he was 
washed overboard in mid-Atlantic. 

There was a terrible story whispered sometimes among 
the sailors on the yacht, how in the midst of a terrific 
storm, when all on board were exj)ecting every moment 
to be their last, a vivid flash of lightning showed for an 
instant a man with his hands clutching another’s throat, 
as he bore him over the bulwarks into the raging sea; but 
it might liave been only an idle tale, as there was no proof 
but the assertion of a half-witted cabin-boy, beyond the 
fact that the valet’s name the next morning was written 
in the log as having been washed overboard. 

This was the retrospect that filled Louis Hayle’s mind 
as he sat this night in his library, deep in thought, for 
over an hour or more longer, until seizing a pen and 
paper he began to write rapidly. 

‘ The following morning, when he descended to the 
library, his first words to his secretary, who was again 
busy at the mass of papers, were: 

Send for a lawyer at once. I want to make my 
will!” 


CHAPTER XV. 

m WHICH A WOLF WEARS THE WHITEST OF FLEECES. 
Mr. William Harrison, Louis Hayle’s private secre- 
tary, was, like his master, far from an ordinary person. 


LAUGHING EYES, 


73 


There was a look of intellectual power about his face 
that struck one at once, and it was not until a second 
and a closer look that it was seen to be sadly deficient in 
the evidences of moral firmness. The lips were too thin 
and closely compressed, the jaw too massive and heavy, 
while through his closely-cut hair it could be seen that 
the phrenological developments behind the ears were un- 
usually large. Yet, notwithstanding this, it was far 
from an unhandsome face, Avith a fresh, healthful color, 
that, though he was more than thirty, gave him quite a 
boyish look. It was only when he was alone or deep in 
thought, and the heavy brows met in a frown, that he 
appeared in his true character, and made one suspicions 
of the man. 

Very meek and gentle he could look sometimes; but 
for all that, beneath the lamb-like covering there lurked 
a very dangerous kind of Avolf. 

In obedience to his master^s orders, he had kept close 
track of the movements of the banker’s family since they 
had left the hall. He knew ^erything that took place 
in the household, even to the minutest particular. As 
a detective Mr. Harrison would have been a success, and 
made himself a notoriety second only to Vidocq, 

Of course, he was perfectly aware of the fact of Isabel 
sitting to Clarence Ford. Either he or some one of his 
agents followed her there and back every day; but the 
girl, in blissful unconsciousness of her steps being thus 
dogged, up to the day of the artist’s departure for Europe 
had never seen his face. 

Upon the evening of that day, however, as the little 
family were seated at supper, a knock came at the door. 

The two young ladies made a hasty exit, ashamed of 
being discovered at such a frugal meal as was spread 
upon the table, while Isabel arose and opened the door. 

The visitor was none other than Mr. Harrison himself; 
but in place of the stylishly-cut clothes that he usually 
wore, he was dressed in a suit of thread-bare black, with 
white, frayed necktie, and boots much the Avorse for 
wear. He would at once have been set down anywhere 
as a poorly-paid lawyer’s clerk, and his face wore a lugu- 
brious expression as he asked: 

^^Does Mrs. Gold win reside here?” 

Yes,” the girl answered; ^^but she is too indisposed 


•74 


LAUGHING EYES. 


to see any one. If it is on any matter of business you 
wish to see her, I can attend to it as well as she.^^ 

^^No/^the visitor said; ‘^it is not on any matter of 
business. My name is James Smith, and I merely wished 
to see the wife of my benefactor, and offer her my grati- 
tude in any way that lies in my power to do."’^ 

I am afraid ” the girl was beginning, when the 

voice of Mrs. Gold win, who had overheard the conversa- 
tion, interrupted her, telling her to admit the visitor. 

Reluctantly Isabel did as she was desired. There was 
something about the visitor that filled her with distrust 
at once, and the feeling was heightened, as, with his hat 
held awkwardly in his hand, in a nervous way, he ad- 
vanced toward where Mrs. Gold win was sitting. 

‘‘1 hope you will not consider this an intrusion, 
ma^am,^^ he said. Believe me, in my humble wav, my 
motives are good, though I may be awkward in express- 
ing my sympathy. Ever since the sad occurrence which 
lost me the only friend and kindest master I ever had, I 
have been trying in vain to find you until to-night.*’’ 

A faint gleam of pleasure came into Mrs. Gold win’s 
eyes at the grateful manner in which he spoke of her 
husband. 

You were one of his employes, then?’’ she said. 

“ Yes, ma’am, he was my benefactor. Though I know 
my position is still an obscure one, it was he who made, 
me all I am. Thirteen years ago I was a bootblack in 
the streets, and he took me into his office, and aided me 
to acquire an education after office hours, until I at 
last reached the responsible position of teller in his 
bank. I need not say how deeply I mourned his un- 
timely death, for it was not for that I came here. 
During thirteen years, thanks to his generosity, I have 
managed to save several thousand dollars, all of which I 
have invested in government bonds. But for him, 
ma’am, 1 could never have had a penny above a beggar, 
and if you will not think me presuming, I would ask you 
to accept half of my savings as a small token of the great 
debt I owed your lamented husband.” 

The tears came into Mrs. Goldwin’s eyes at such an in- 
stance of gratitude, so rarely found. She thanked him 
in a broken voice for the offer, but declared it was im- 


LAUGHING EYES, 


75 


possible. As for James Smith, he appeared pained be- 
yond expression at her refusal. 

Well, ma'am,'’' he said, at length, if you would only 
have done so, it would have been the proudest day of my 
life, hut if you will not think me presuming too far, may 
I still ask you to think of me as a friend?" 

‘^Indeed I will," the lady answered, earnestly. ^^God 
knows our friends are not so many?" 

So it gradually came around that Mr. Smith got to be 
quite a frequent visitor in the humble apartments, and 
quite a favorite with the banker's wife, to whom he was 
never tired of declaiming upon her husband's benevolence 
to himself; while the young ladies, bearing in mind the 
several thousand dollars he had mentioned, and consider- 
ing anything was preferable to their present life, vied 
with each other as to who should insnare him in the 
matrimonial net. 

Only Isabel could never get rid of the feeling of dis- 
trust and aversion with which she had regarded him at 
first, and avoided him in every way reconcilable with 
politeness. 

That Mr. James Smith's feelings toward her were not 
similar, however, was evident; for though in the house he 
said but little to her, whenever she was abroad he was 
always joining her unexpectedly, until sometimes it was 
as much as she could manage to be barely civil to him. 

Her search for a situation had again commenced, and 
as she was out most of the time, these meetings Avere fre- 
quent. 

One CA^ening, as she was returning home, feeling as 
near despondent as it Avas possible for her bright, cheer- 
ful nature to become, as she crossed one of the parks she 
sat down to rest for a feAv minutes. 

Sinking into thought, she forgot hoAv the time Avas 
passing, and that the night Avas rapidly coming on, when 
she became aware of a man standing beside her. Looking 
up with a little start, she saw it Avas James Smith. 

Seating himself beside her, as she was about to rise, he 
laid his hand lightly on her arm. 

Please do not go yet. Miss Isabel," he said. I have 
something to say to you." 

His tone and manner Avere so different from his usual 
fawning one that the girl looked at him in genuine sur- 


LAUGHING EYES. 


% 

prise. Glancing hastily around to assure himself that 
there was no one within hearing, he went on: 

‘"Miss Isabel/’ he said, earnestly, "‘the subject on 
which I wish to speak to you is one very near to my heart. 
You cannot be unaware howl admire you, how I worship 
the very ground on which you tread. Isabel, I love you; 
will you be my wife?” 

With a little cry of mingled astonishment and anger 
the girl started to her feet. 

“Sir,” she said, “are you insane? We have known 
each other but a few weeks.” 

“But long enough, my darling,” he replied, eagerly, 
and still retaining her hand in his own, “to have learned 
to love you, to feel that without you all creation is a 
blank.” 

She drew herself still more proudly erect, and released 
her hand from his grasp. 

“If I have inspired you with such a feeling, sir,” she 
said, in a voice icily cold and calm, “ I am sorry, but I 
cannot help it. What you ask is utterly impossible. I 
do not love you.” 

“But ” he was beginning, when she again inter- 

rupted him. 

“ I have said it cannot be.” 

A heavy sigh that was almost a groan escaped his li2:)s, 
and he once more seized her hand. 

“Then let my foolish words be forgotten,” he said. 
“I can never cease to love you, but I will keep the secret 
buried in my own breast. Let me still continue to be 
your friend.” 

“You will prove your friendship by never mention- 
ing the subject again,” she said, in a more gentle tone 
than she had yet used; and with another heavy sigh, he 
released her hand, and walked homeward by her side, in 
silence. 

Whatever his ultimate designs might be, the wolf’s 
manner was still meek and lamb-like, and he had not 
yet begun to show his teeth. 


CHAPTER XVI. 

Ijq- WHICH LAUGHIHG EYES’ BURDEK GROWS HEAVIER. 

Nearly a week had passed since Mr. James Smith’s 
unfavorably received avowal of his passion, and during 


LAUGHING EYES. 


77 


that time, though she saw him every day, Isabel was not 
troubled with a renewal of the subject. He seemed to re- 
gard the girhs decision as final, and submissively accepted 
the colder substitute of friendship, though he was a con- 
stant visitor at the house where his presence always was 
welcome to Mrs. Goldwin and her step-daughters. 

As for Laughing Eyes, her original feeling of distrust 
and dislike of him was gradually growing into a settled 
aversion. The cause she could hardly have explained, 
even to. herself. It was more an instinctive feeling that 
he was false than anything else, and it sometimes took so 
strong possession of her that it was as much as she 
could do to act with even common courtesy toward him. 

She had now once more to endeavor to obtain some em- 
ployment, and to again experience similar disheartening 
failures to those she had undergone before her meeting 
with Clarence Ford, until the girFs- heart grew weary, 
and she almost felt like giving up in despair. 

At last, however, an advertisement in a morning paper 
for several young ladies to complete a choir attracted 
her attention. Why should she not try that? she asked 
herself. Her voice was a fine, clear soprano, and had 
more than once elicited great praise fi-om persons com- 
petent to pronounce an opinion. At the worst she could 
but fail as she had so often done before. 

Accordingly, though not without many misgivings, at 
the hour named she proceeded to the address mentioned 
in the advertisement. It was a bureau which made a 
specialty of engaging musical talent, and as she went 
into the anteroom, and saw the crowd of applicants there 
before her, her hopes sank even lower in her breast. She 
watched them as one by one they entered the inner room, 
and came out with disappointment written plainly upon 
their faces, until at last her own. turn came, and she was 
shown into the impresario^s presence. 

He was a man of between forty and fifty, and with 
long, iron-gray hair brushed back from his forehead, 
flowing beard and strongly marked eyebrows, from be- 
neath which two piercing black eyes surveyed her with 
a not unkindly "look. He sat at a desk strewn with 
papers and manuscript music, which he turned over as 
if searching for some particular copy, as he addressed 
her. 


78 


LAUGHING EYES. 


^^Have you ever sung in public before?’^ be asked, 
abruptly. 

Never, Isabel answered, not a little disconcerted by 
bis brusk manner, ^^but 

^^AbPbe interrupted, in a balf-grumbling way, and 
speaking more to bimself than to ber, ^Hbe same old 
story. An amateur. Praises of relatives and friends, 
and so on. Then with tbe same abruptness with wbicb 
be bad asked bis first question, be held a sheet of music 
toward ber. 

^^Oan your read that?” be asked. 

Laugbing Eyes, glancing at it, saw it was tbe soprano 
part in one of tbe cboruses in tbe ^‘Messiah.” 

^^Yes,’^ sbe faltered. 

^^Let me bear you, tben.^'’ 

The girl began the first few notes in a faltering voice, 
and then with a violent effort shaking off the feeling of 
nervousness, and exerting her utmost powers, her glorious 
voice swelled out in a volume of melody until tbe last 
word of the verse was reached. Then pausing, she 
glanced toward ber companion, tremblingly awaiting his 
decision. 

The impresario nodded bis approval. 

‘^^Youfil do,^^ he said, in his brusk way. Consider 
yourself engaged. What is your name?’^ 

Hardly believing in ber good fortune and that she 
could have beard his words aright, Isabel answered the 
question. 

"^Well, Miss Lyle,"” the impresario went on, ‘‘1 am 
Signor G-oldoni, under whose direction the oratorio from 
which you have sung your part of one of the choruses is 
to be produced a week from to-day at the Institute of 
Music. It is to be for one night only, as it is the occa- 
sion upon which I bid adieu for some months to the 
American public. You will have to attend rehearsals 
every day until then, and the amount I will pay you is 
twenty dollars. Will you accept the terms ?'^ 

Only too glad was Laughing Eyes to do so; the amount 
he had named was sufficient to keep the wolf from the 
door for a long time, and every day during the inter- 
vening week she attended rehearsals until she was perfect 
in her part. 

At last the night of the performance arrived, and 


LAUGHING EYES. 


79 


although upon first standing upon the stage before the 
eyes of the spectators, all of whom seemed to make her- 
self their object, she felt very nervous, when at last the 
orchestra struck up and the oratorio began, gradually 
carried away by the sublimity of the music, she forgot 
where she stood, and her voice, swelling out in its great- 
est power, soared above the rest like the chimes of a sil- 
ver bell among those of baser metal. i 

The oratorio was a success. Signor Goldoni received a 
perfect ovation, and when the performance was over, and 
Isabel was about to return home, he approached where 
she was standing and shook her hand warmly. 

You sang gloriously,” he said. ^*^You should be a 
prima donna instead of a chorus singer. Let me also 
congratulate you' on having attracted the attention of a 
gentleman who can be of the greatest service to you.” 

The giiTs face showed the surprise she felt at this in- 
formation. 

A gentleman?” she echoed. 

^^Yes,” the impresario answered. ^^He is the man- 
ager — but here he is in person. Dartmore, this is the 
young lady herself.” 

Laughing Eyes, turning, saw a gentleman standing be- 
side her, who raised his hat as he addressed her. He was 
elegantly dressed, though with perhaps a little too much 
jewelry for perfect taste, and as the girl looked at him 
a feeling that she had seen him before came over her. 
Try as she would, however, she could not recall when or 
where, and as she was still wondering where it had been, 
he drew a card from his pocket and offered it to her. 

“ I will not detain you to-night,” he said, ''but if you 
will call at my office to-morrow at eleven oYlock, I have 
no doubt we can make an arrangement satisfactory to us 
both.” Raising his hat again, he turned away as he 
spoke, and Isabel, looking at the card he had given her, 
read: 

" Sydney Dartmore, 

" Lessee and Manager ^ 

" Thespian Theater T 

In better spirits than she had been for months, Laugh- 
ing Eyes proceeded homeward. She had made an un- 
doubted success, and had the amount promised her for 
the night^s service in her pocket. The money thu§ 


80 


LAUGHING EYES. 


earned secured them from want for a time at least, and 
what might not the morrow’s interview with Mr. Dart- 
more bring forth ? 

The Thespian, she knew, was one of the most popular 
minor theatres in the metropolis; hut how or when she 
had seen the manager before still puzzled her. His face 
was familiar to her, and yet she could not place it, until 
at last the recollection came to her that it was he who 
had been Clarence Ford’s companion upon the day she 
had first seen the young artist. 

By the time this memory had come to her she had 
reached the humble apartments that now were the home 
of the banker’s family, and entering, was surprised to 
find Mrs. Gold win had not yet retired to rest. 

Neither the lady nor her step-daughters had been to 
witness her first appearance as a singer. The two young 
ladies had chosen, for some unexplained recxson, to regard 
her with anything but friendly feelings, indeed, almost 
as an enemy; while- upon Mrs. Goldwin the sudden re- 
verse of fortune that had overtaken her, had the effect of 
quite crushing her spirit. 

Had Louis Hayle seen her now, even he must have felt 
a pang at the effect of his revenge. The secret that dur- 
ing the last five years of her husband’s life had been 
weighing upon her mind had exhausted her energies, and 
made her quite unable to endure the added weight of 
shame and j)overty. An utter, apathetic melancholy had 
taken possession of her, from which nothing but Isabel’s 
presence had power to arouse her. 

To-night, however, even this seemed to have lost its 
influence. She sat and listened to the girl’s story in 
utter silence, and when she put her arms about her neck 
to kiss her, she disengaged herself from the embrace. 

Mamma,” the girl cried, with tears rushing into her 
eyes, '"are you angry with me? What have I done to 
offend you ?” 

" It was in a querulous voice that Mrs. Goldwin an- 
swered : 

"Isabel,” she said, "Mr. Smith has been here to-night, 
and we have been talking about you.” 

With a presentiment of what was coming in her mind, 
the girl listened. 

" He told me something that pained me very much. 


LAUGHING EYES. 


81 


lie said he had asked yon to be his wife, and yon liad 
refused him/^ 

Bnt why should it pain yon, mamma?’^ Langhing 
Eyes asked, wonderingly. I do not love him, and be- 
sides,^^ she added, with a wistfnl smile, my dear mamma 
conld not spare me yet/'’ 

To the girFs ntter snrprise Mrs. Gold win bnrst into 
tears. 

I did not think yon were so nngratefnl, Isabel/'’ she 
sobbed. Mr. Smith is a nice young man, and, thongh 
he is not rich, he has enough to keep ns all from the 

starvation that is staring ns in the face. He told me ” 

The girl started to her feet, her eyes flashing with con- 
temptuous scorn. 

And so he has been pleading his case with yon,^’ she 
cried. I disliked him before, I hate and despise him 

now. And to think, mamma, that yon ’'’ 

The girFs emotions overpowered her, and with her face 
buried in her hands, she sobbed as if her heart would 
break. For a moment or two her thoughts against the 
lady were very bitter ones, bnt soon a great, heartfelt pity 
took their place. She could see as no one else could see 
how her benefactress^ mind had weakened under her trials, 
and her noble nature pointed out plainly the path of duty. 
She needed her sympathy and care now more than ever, 
and, drying her eyes, she once more flung her arms about 
Mrs. Goldwin'’s neck and kissed her. 

‘‘^I did not mean to be harsh, Isabel,'” the lady said, 
in a remorseful tone, ^^but if you would only marry him 
it would be such an easy way out of all our troubles. 
You will promise me, dear, will you not?'^ 

My more than mother,^'’ the girl cried, ^^if you were 
to ask me to lay my life dawn for you I would do it 
gladly, but this f cannot do.'’^ 

Again Mrs. Gold win disengaged herself from her adopted 
daughter’s embrace. 

I do not ask for your life,^’ she said, ^^I only ask you 
to save us all from this abject poverty by marrying an 
honest man who loves you.” 

But, mother,” the girl pleaded, kneeling beside her, 
almost frantic at the coldness of the other’s tone, but 
Mrs. Goldwin unclasped the hands that grasped her own 
appealingly, and swept from tlm room, leaving Isabel 


83 


LAUGHING EYES. 


crouching on the floor, with her face buried in her hands 
and sobbing as if her heart would break in a very agony 
of grief. 

Truly it was too hard, it was too cruel that even those 
whom she loved and for whose sake slie would be willing 
to lay down her life, should turn against her and make 
her already heavy burden more than her strength could 
bear. 


CHAPTER XVII. 

I^r WHICH THE DEBUTANTE DA WHS A STAR. 

Sleepless, indeed, was IsabePs couch that night. 

It was the cruelest wound her heart had ever yet re- 
ceived, yet she strove bravely to endure it patiently. She 
knew that it was not the lady who had been her benefac- 
tress and adopted mother in the days gone by, who had 
spoken thus, but another woman, the victim of an adverse 
fate and bitter poverty. The girl had an instinctive 
knowledge of human nature that marked her as having a 
soul above the common herd, and this subtile knowledge 
at once told her the truth, that Mrs. Goldwin's mind had 
become weakened through the pressure of adverse cir- 
cumstances, and the fact should move her to feelings of 
pity and not reproach. 

Still her heart was none the less pained and heavy, as 
early the following morning she arose and prepared to go 
about her daily duties. The most logical conclusion of 
cause and effect is but a poor relief to feelings that have 
been stung to the quick. 

She attended to her household duties as usual, hardly a 
word being spoken during the whole morning, until, as 
eleven, o^clock approached, she dressed herself, and still 
in silence, started to the Thespian Tlieater to keep her 
appointment with the manager. 

She experienced no difficulty in being admitted to his 
private office, where she found him busy with a pile of 
.correspondence, and asking her to be seated for a few 
minutes longer, he remained deeply absorbed in their 
contents. 

After the lapse of perhaps a quarter of an hour, he 
had read the last letter, and then wheeling around in 
his chair, he looked scrutiniziiigly at her for a moment 


LAUGHING EYES. 


83 


or two, tliough not by any means in an impertinent 
way. 

Ah, yes,^’ he said, at length, "‘I remember. 1 asked 
you to call tliis morning? Yes. Well, Miss Lyle, I was 
much attracted by your voice last night, and thought it a 
pity for such talent to be wasted in a chorus. I have a 
new comic opera in rehearsal, and if you have not any of 
the absurd prejudices against the profession, I think I 
can let you have a part that will suit you.'’^ 

He paused as if expecting a reply, and Laughing Eyes 
hastened to answer that she not only was free from any 
of the prejudices referred to, but such an engagement 
would be more than a realization of her greatest hopes. 

The manager gave a nod of approval. 

You are engaged, then,’’ he said; but you will 
have to study hard in your part, for the piece is an- 
nounced to appear in ten days. Your salary will be 
twenty dollars a week to begin with; and if you like to 
accept the terms, I will take you at once and introduce 
you to the stage manager.” 

Again Laughing Eyes signified her assent, and the 
manager, looking at his watch, rose from his seat. 

“ Come with me, then,” he said, in his quick, decisive 
way. All the company are here, or ought to be by 
this time. By the way, what stage name do you intend 
to take, or do you prefer to retain your own?” 

I think, perhaps, it might be better if I assumed 
one,” Isabel said hesitatingly. 

I agree with you,” the manager replied. If you 
have not any particular one you would prefer, what do 
you say to Vane — Miss Isabel Vane?” 

** I think it would do very well,” the girl assented. 

‘‘Then we will consider that settled,” the manager 
replied, and Isabel, following him along a seemingly 
endless series of painted canvas corridors and by many 
turnings and sharp corners, they at last emerged upon 
the stage, where already about a dozen ladies and gentle- 
men in every-day costume were standing. 

A dim twilight reigned through the entire building, 
and the rows of empty seats and boxes looked inexpressibly 
gloomy and dispiriting. It seemed more like a vague 
dream than anything else to the girl, and not until the 
introduction to the stage manager and the company had 


LAUGHING EYES. 


u 

been gone throngli, and slie found herself standing with a 
roll of music in her hand, while the leading lady, a Miss 
Ethel Montmorenci, sang her part in a very listless and 
dispirited manner, did she wholly realize her situation. 

A voice at her side aroused her, and turning, she saw 
the stage manager. 

You will please do the best you can with the part. 
Miss Vane,^"* he said. At least read the words. 

For a moment or two Isabel still stood in bewilder- 
ment, and then glancing at the notes in her hand, her 
voice swelled out in a volume of melody that caused the 
pendants on the chandeliers to tinkle with the vibration 
in the silence of the deserted theater. 

When she had finished, all the members of the com- 
pany stood silent in admiring surprise, and even the im- 
passive stage manager was betrayed into an exclamation 
of admiration. 

Bravo, Miss Vane,” he cried, is not often one 
hears anything rendered like that at rehearsal. Now, 
Miss Mordaunt, for the page’s song, if you please.” 

The latter part of the speech was addressed to a young 
lady of somewhat piquant expression of countenance, who 
stood beside Isabel, and who, thus exhorted, sang the 
song in her best manner. 

With her part before her, which was that of a waiting 
maid to the baron’s only daughter, as represented by Miss 
Montmorenci, Isabel sang her recitative and songs until 
the closing words, and after she had taken her departure, 
with her part to study, her manner of delivery and 
glorious voice called forth many expressions of admira- 
tion from the male members of the company, and not a 
few of envy on the part of the fairer sex. 

^^By Jove, Dartmore!” the stage manager said to his 
principal, as the two sat together smoking their cigars 
after the actors had taken their departure, ^^you have 
made a hit in securing that girl; she is a genius!” 

^'I think so myself,” the other answered. "^I should 
not be much surprised if she was to step into the fair 
Montmorenci’s shoes as soon as her engagement is com- 
pleted.” 

Meanwhile, all unconscious of the complimentary opin- 
ion of the managers regarding her, Isabel had returned 
home and set herself earnestly to study her part. The 


LAUGHING EYES. 


85 


coldness between her adopted mother and herself had not 
diminished, and although she did not see him, she knew 
that Mr. James Smith still visited the house as usual, 
and in his insidious way kept up Mrs. Goldwin^s feeling 
of aggravation toward her. Though she knew that she 
was not deserving of it, the knowledge did not make her 
feeling any the less painful, and she sought her study as 
a relief, putting her whole soul in her work, until, when 
the night for the production of the piece arrived, she not 
only was perfect in her own part, but could as easily have 
taken that of any of the other characters. 

The piece, which possessed but few merits beyond the 
sweetness of the music, was called the Barones Daugh- 
ter,^’ whose part was taken by Miss Montmorenci. That 
assigned to Isabel was maid-in-waiting upon this haughty, 
high-born beauty, and did not require much action be- 
yond the singing of a few short songs. The piece, how- 
ever, hit the popular taste, and Isabel’s fresh and remark- 
able beauty, her laughing eyes and golden hair, added to 
the wonderful sweetness and power of her voice, caused 
every song she sang to be rapturously encored. 

It was not to be thought, however, that such unusual 
success on the part of a young debtUantGws,s to be allowed 
to pass without exciting many feelings of envy, and even 
Isabel’s innocence and ignorance of the ways of theatrical 
jealousy could not long blind her to the fact that she had 
incurred the leading lady’s severe displeasure. Though 
grieved at the circumstance, yet knowing she was inno- 
cent of any intention of offense, the girl attended to her 
duties, and took no notice of the many little acts of petty 
tyranny and unpleasant remarks in which Miss Montmo- 
renci vented her spite. 

The knowledge, however, was none the less painful to 
her, and added to the continuous coldness that met her 
at home, the girl’s life grew very dreary, and it seemed 
to her sometimes as if happiness was destined never to be 
hers again. 

One evening, when the piece had been running about 
two weeks and was still in the full tide of popularity, 
when she arrived at the theater she found everything in 
confusion, and both Mr. Dartmore and the stage manager 
storming and raving like madmen. 

No sooner, however, had Mr. Dartmore’s eyes fallen 


86 


LAUGHING EYES. 


upon Isabel, than a look of relief came into his face, and 
he advauced eagerly toward where she stood. 

See here,” he said, extending a crumpled note to- 
ward her, '^her imperial highness Montmorenci is too 
indisposed to take her part this evening, and the house is 
already more than half full. But, by Jupiter,” he added, 
with a relapse into his former passion, if she thinks to 
come over me that way she is greatly mistaken. She 
never steps upon these boards again while I have any- 
thing to do with the house. Til return the money and close 
the doors first. Miss Vane, you are the only person can 
help me out. You must take the leading part to-night, 
and if yon succeed, by Heaven you shall keep it.” 

Laughing Eyes stood utterly speechless with surprise 
and bewilderment, for a moment or two. 

I take Miss Montmorenci "s part,” she managed to 
stammer, at length. 

Yes,” the manager replied, decisively, you can but 
fail, and I have confidence enough in you to know you 
will not. I have ordered a suitable wardrobe for the part, 
and you will find it in the dressing-room. You have not 
a moment to lose for the overture is just beginning.” 

Too utterly bewildered to offer any further opposition, 
like one in a dream Isabel did as she was desired, and 
proceeding to the dressing-room, arrayed herself in the 
costume of the baron’s daughter. Still utterly bewildered 
and confused, it was with half a feeling of surprise that 
she saw the curtain rise, and she stepped upon the stage. 

Hot until she stood in the full glare of the footlights, 
and saw the sea of faces before her, did she realize her 
position. Then for an instant she cast a half terrified 
look around, but the next drew herself proudly erect. 

^^By Jove, old fellow,” Dartmore whispered, to the 
stage manager, as they stood together at the wings, when 
he saw the action, ‘ she is a success. She will take the 
audience by storm.” 

Even while the words were leaving his lips, the young 
debutante had swelled out her bosom, and the next mo- 
ment the clear- throated notes of her opening song, rising 
in waves of melody through the building, seemed to lin- 
ger in the air. 

The audience hung entranced upon every note as it 
floated from her lips, and when she ceased, for a moment 


LAUGHING EYES. 


87 


there was a silence in the theater in which a whisper 
might have been heard. Only for a moment, however, 
and then the applause broke forth in a very tempest, and 
ail avalanche of bouquets came showering upon the stage 
at the singer’s feet. 

Again and again through the evening she was encored, 
and when at last the curtain fell, the audience would not 
leave their seats until she once more appeared and bowed 
her thanks. 

^^Miss Lyle,"*^ the manager said, when she was about to 
return home, “ you have done me a service for which I 
can never thank you enough. From to-night you take 
Miss Montmorenci’s place as leading lady, with an ad- 
vance of fifty dollars upon her weekly salary.” 

And Laughing Eyes, awakening next morning, found 
herself famous, and her name in every one^s mouth as the 
debutante who had achieved such a glorious success, and 
dawned a bright and particular star in the theatrical 
firmament. 


CHAPTEE XVIII. 

IN WHICH THE WOLF SHOWS HIS TEETH. 

Though naturally proud of her success, the pleasure 
was but secondary to the thoughts that filled the mind of 
Isabel, that now she would be able to make her adopted 
mother’s home comfortable, and they need no longer 
crouch beneath the iron hand of poverty. Now, also, a 
vague, delicious feeling filled her heart that did Clarence 
Ford love her, she would be able to prove to him that it 
was himself she loved, and not the position that his love 
could give her. 

For, strive as she would, she could not banish his image 
from her mind, and ever the last words he had spoken 
whispered in her heart that perhaps her love was not 
wholly hopeless. 

A complete reconciliation had taken place at home. 
Even the two Misses Goldwin condescended to be civil to 
her, and Isabel’s bright and sunny nature returned once 
more, and the laughing light came again into her eyes, 
as it had been in the by-gone days. 

Sometimes, however, a vague, undefined feeling that 
her days were too happy to last — a far-off presentiment of 


88 


LAUGHING EYES. 


coming evil — would creep into her mind. It was seldom 
it affected her, but when it did, always mingled in a 
curious way was the thought of Mr. James Smith, and 
her first feeling of dislike and distrust of him. 

Still, it seemed but a morbid fancy, strange even to 
herself, for that young man had not called at the house, 
nor had she seen him since the night of her grand suc- 
cess at the Thespian Theater. 

That was more than three weeks ago now, and the 
piece still drew even larger houses than ever, and the 
press and public opinion sounded her praises as an act- 
ress far and wide. 

They were not undeserved. It was not mere talent 
she possessed, but the higher and more divine gift of 
genius; and who can tell but that this subtle quality, not 
to be understood by less gifted mortals, may have caused 
these presentiments of coming evil that sometimes would 
not be banished from her mind. 

One evening this feeling was upon her stronger than it 
had ever been before. The day, too, was dark and 
desolate and dreary, with a cold, drizzling rain falling 
from a leaden sky, as she was driven through the gather- 
ing dusk to the theater. A short piece m one act, and 
in which she had no part, preceded the Barones 
Daughter, and sitting in her dressing-room, she tried to 
interest herself in a book until it should be time for her 
to dress and go upon the stage. 

She had sat thus for less than a quarter of an hour, her 
thoughts straying far across the ocean, and wondering 
where Clarence Ford might be, and if he had wholly for- 
gotten her, when a knock came at the door, and the call- 
boy, entering, handed her a note. 

As she read it a cry of alarm broke from her lips, and 
she hastily put on her hat and cloak. The note, which 
was but a few words, was from Miss Matilda, and read as 
follows: 

Mamma has been seized with a fit. We fear she must 
die. The carriage is waiting, so lose no time, but come 
at once.” 

Almost frantic with agonized dread, Isabel rushed to 
the manager’s office, but only to find that Mr. Dartmore 
had not yet arrived. Then in a few hurried words she 


LA UGIIINO E \ I'JS. 


89 


told the stage manager of the message, and, without 
waiting to listen to his remonstrance, hastened to the 
stage entrance where a carriage was waiting. 

Entering it, she told the driver to drive as fast as he 
could, and, sinking upon the seat, strove to subdue her 
emotions into at least an appearance of calmness. 

Suddenly she felt a terrible feeling of faintness over- 
powering her. A dull drowsiness also seemed to benumb 
her senses, and with a great dread lest she should faint, 
she reached out her hand to lower the window, but only 
to find it would not move. 

Raising her voice, she called to the driver and beat 
with her hands upon the panel to attract his attention, 
lie either did not or would not hear, however, and with 
one more futile attempt to lower the window, her fingers 
became relaxed and nerveless, and she sank upon tlie 
floor of the carriage in utter unconsciousness. 

When she once more came to herself she was lying 
upon a lounge, in a large room furnished with a dreary, 
antique magnificence. Starting involuntarily to her feet, 
sh.e pressed her hands to her throbbing temples and gazed 
around her, striving vainly for a moment or two to re- 
member where she was. 

Suddenly the remembrance of the message and her 
swoon in the carriage came back to her, and crossing tlie 
room to the door she found it locked on the outside. 
Glancing around the apartment, still in a bewildered way, 
she saw the hands of the clock upon the mantel pointed 
to half-past five, and again crossing the floor to the win- 
dow through which the daylight was beginning to strug- 
gle, she saw it overlooked the sea. 

How had she come here? she asked herself. How had 
the interval between the time she had fainted in the car- 
riage and now been passed? Was it possible that the 
message that had told her of her adopted mother’s danger- 
ous illness had been but a demoniac plot to ruin her? 

As these questions surged through her mind with such 
resistless force as for a moment prevented her finding an 
answer, the key was turned in the lock of a door at the 
further end of the apartment, and opening it the next 
moment, a man entered. 

An involuntary cry of mingled surprise and repug- 


90 


LAUGHING EYES. 


nance broke from tlie girFs lips as she recognized him. 
It was Mr. James Smith. 

He no longer wore the shabby-genteel dress in which 
she had previously seen him^, but was dressed in the 
height of fashion. Diamonds sparkled on his shirt front 
and on his fingers, and he had evidently got himself up 
to produce an impression. He advanced to greet her 
with the utmost humility, however, but before he could 
utter a word the girl had addressed him. 

May I ask, sir,^’ she said, with queenly dignity, the 
reason of my finding myself here, and being here, by what 
right do you intrude upon me? Do you bring me any 
message from Mrs. Gold win ?^^ 

Mr. James Smith made a low bow as he answered: 

‘‘Let me relieve your mind as to the safety of your 
adopted mother, first. Miss Isabel,'’^ he said. “ She is 
perfectly well ” 

“ Then it is as I imagined,"^ the girl interrupted, pas- 
sionately, ‘‘a dastardly plot of yours to ruin me.^’ 

“Pardon me, Isabel,^' the man answered, “you are 
too harsh. I have already told you how I love you, and 
this was but a little ruse which you know is fair in 
love ” 

“ And you prove the love you pretend to feel by bring- 
ing disgrace and the scorn of the world upon its object?^-’ 

For a moment the man was silent, abashed by the 
scorn that flashed from her beautiful eyes; but recovering 
his self-possession, his tone grew very tender as he re- 
plied. 

“ Ho,^^ he said, “ believe me, you wrong me. It is an 
honorable marriage, and all the love that my nature 
feels I offer you. I do not threaten you. I only ask you 
again under different circumstances, will you be mv 
wife?^^ 

Had a look of mingled scorn and loathing possessed 
power to kill, Mr. James Smith would have fallen dead 
at the girPs feet. 

“ And as I answered you before I answer you again,'" 
she cried. “ Words cannot express the loathing I feel 
toward you. Before you should touch my hand or pollute 
me with your lips, I would take my fate into my own 
hands and die. Stand aside, I say, and allow me to leave 
this house 


LAUGHING EYES. 


91 


A frown, dark as midnight, came upon the man’s face, 
and the working of his countenance showed the baffled 
rage that struggled in his breast, but with an effort lie 
restrained his passion, and stepping aside, held open the 
door for her to pass. 

I have no wish to detain you,” he said, in a voice 
vibrating with compressed passion and baffled rage. '‘1 
offer you your choice between an honorable union with 
me and the concentrated scorn of the world. Already 
your name is in every mouth as having eloped with one of 
the most notorious men in the metropolis. Eeturn with 
me as my wife, and the world will call your action noth- 
ing worse than refreshingly romantic. Return alone, 
and face the scorn and scandal if you dare.” 

As he had proceeded, his tone had grown more fierce 
and threatening, and for an instant the girl felt her 
heart sink like lead in her breast at the words that she 
knew to be too cruelly true. Only for an instant, how- 
ever, and then with another flashing glance of defiant 
scorn, she passed out of the door. 

‘‘Know, wretch,” she said, “that I dare anything. 
Dare! I would welcome death before the dishonor of a 
union with such a miscreant as you !” 

For a moment Mr. James Smith stood and watched 
her retreating figure in silence, and then an impreca- 
tion broke from between his teeth. 

“You are very proud and haughty now, my beauty,” 
he muttered, “ but time tells all things, and though you 
have foiled me this once you have not conquered.” 


CHAPTER XIX. 

WHICH THE SECEETARY TRIUMPHS. 

Traversing the length of the hallway. Laughing 
Eyes found her further progress checked by a door firmly 
locked, and the key of which had been removed. 

Turning she was about to retrace her steps to the apart- 
ment where she had left Mr. James Smith, and demand 
her instant liberation, when a door opened upon a stair- 
case leading to the lower floor attracted her attention; 
descending she found herself in the basement. 

An old women of nearly seventy, who was seated in an 
arm-chair beside the fire, caressing a huge gray cat, was 


93 


LAUGHING EYES. 


the only occupant, and she looked up with a ludicrous 
expression of mingled amazement and dismay as the girl 
entered. 

Will you please show me the way out of the house?” 
Isabel asked. 

The old woman looked at her with a smile upon her 
shriveled lips, and a leer in her bleared eyes. 

Ah — ha!” she chuckled; so you are the pretty little 
lady Mr. William brought here last night? Ah, but he 
has good taste, Mr. William has, though such doings 
are enough to make the poor old gentleman, his father, 
turn in his grave, they are.” 

Mr. William,” Isabel repeated, ^^it is as I suspected, 
then, and his name is not James Smith at all!” 

The old woman seemed immensely amused at the idea. 

“ James Smith,” she chuckled. ‘^Ah! he is a deep 
one, Mr. William is, but I used to hear him then say, 
when I was younger, that all is fair in love.” 

“ Then what is his name?” the girl asked, eagerly. 

The old woman looked at her with a cunning leer upon 
her face for a moment or two before replying. 

‘^Ah, deary,” she said, at length, ^^tliat would be 
telling, that would, and old Madge is going to be faith- 
ful to the end, though the new master ainT like the old 
one. Why bless your heart, when old Mr. Harrison and 
his lady were living, and Mr. William, that is now, was 
a little fellow of ten or twelve years old, the house was 
just alive with gayety; but the new master has never 
been here since he bought it nigh on to fourteen years 
ago. Ah, yes, deary, times have changed since I was 
young, and they ainT now what they used to be.” 

The old woman shook her head in a sorrowful way at 
the recollections of her vanished youth, and with an 
eagerness for which she coaid not account even to herself, 
Isabel tried to humor her communicative mood. 

‘^Then the new master does not live here?” she said. 

Ah, no,” the old woman answered, forgetful, i-n the 
pleasure of gaining an interested listener, of the avowal 
of reticence she had made a few moments before; he 
doesnT care for our simple country ways. He lives in a 
grand house with dozens of servants, they say, in New 
York, and what he wanted to buy this house for I could 
never tell, except it wa.s to do a kindness to Mr. William. 


LAUGHING EYES, 


93 


Ah! a queer gentleman he is, thougli he’s always kind 

and pleasant spoken is Mr. Stanhope ” 

Stunhope!” Isabel cried, interrupting her. You do 
not mean to say that is his name?” 

^^Ah! that’s how it is,” the old woman grumbled in an 
aggrieved tone, ‘‘^my tongue always runs away with me. 
Yes, that is his name, but may I ask, young lady, what 
you want to come down here and ask me all these ques- 
tions for?” 

I had no desire to do so,” Isabel hastened to answer, 
“ I only wanted to ask you to show me the way out of the 
house.” 

‘‘ Ah! but, child, that is more than I dare do, without 
Mr. William’s orders. He told me I would have to keep 
the house all locked up until after nine o’clock, and it is 
no more than a little after seven now. No, child, you 
will have to stay with me till then; but I can get you 
some breakfast, and by the time you have eaten it I can 
let you out.” 

She arose as she spoke, and busying herself with the 
cooking utensils, in a short time had a savory breakfast 
of fresh-laid eggs and coffee and cream prepared, which 
she pressed Isabel to partake of, but the girl had but little 
appetite. 

The old woman’s revelation of the real name of the man 
who had brought her to this place against her will, as 
well as the information that in some way he was con- 
nected with Louis Stanhope, whom she regarded in her 
own mind as the murderer of the husband of her bene- 
factress, filled her mind with a new dread. 

Evidently his vengeance was not yet completed, and 
what dishonorable fate it might be his evil intention to 
have yet in store for her she could not tell. 

With her eyes fixed upon the face of the tall, old- 
fashioned clock, she waited in an agony of suspense until 
the hour should come when the old woman had said she 
had been inst^^ucted to open the doors. 

Every moment she expected to see the deceitful villain, 
whom, before this, she had known as James Smith, enter 
the room, but the leaden-footed minutes passed by until 
the clock leisurely struck the hour of nine, and still he 
had not made his appearance. 

As the sound of the last stroke died away, the old 


94 


LAUGHING EYES, 


woman, as she had signified her intention of doing, took 
a hunch of keys from her pocket, and ascending to the 
next floor, opened the street door, and the next moment 
Isabel found herself at liberty. 

The house was a detached one, standing in grounds of 
several acres in extent. At the distance of less than a 
mile away could he seen a small village, and toward it the 
girl directed her steps. 

Arrived there, she found it was a small town in Hew 
Jersey, about six miles from Hew York. As she reached 
the station, a train was about to start for Jersey City, and 
purchasing a ticket, in less than half an hour she was on 
her journey homeward. 

The events of the last twenty-four hours had been so 
peculiar that she could hardly realize they had actually 
taken place. They seemed more like the misty memory 
of a dream than anything else. 

It was late in the afternoon when the train ran into the 
depot at Jersey City, and by the time she had crossed the 
river and reached Hew York, it was beginning to grow 
dusk. 

She had but a dollar or two left, and hailing a hack she 
was at once driven to the Thespian Theater. 

When the driver was paid she had but a few cents re- 
maining, and proceeding to the manager's office she was 
so far fortunate as to find him in. Politely asking her 
to be seated, he listened in silence until she had finished 
her story. 

It /lertainly has been a most unfortunate occurrence 
for both of us. Miss Lyle,’^ he said, at length. ‘‘'It has 
taken quite a large sum of money out of my pocket. You 
cannot regret the fact more than I do myself, but I have 
been compelled to make other arrangements. As it is 
you who have broken the contract between us, of course 
you cannot expect me to keep my part of it. Therefore, 
although personally I am very sorry to have to do so, in 
my business capacity I must state our relations are at an 
end.” 

For a moment or two Isabel was too overcome by a 
variety of contending emotions to reply. Such a com- 
plete overthrow of all her hopes she had not a moment 
anticipated. She had expected that upon a frank expla- 
nation of the circumstances Mr. Dartmore would have 


LAUGHING EYES. 


95 


sympathized with her, and making an excuse to the 
audience on the ground of sudden indisposition or some- 
thing equally plausible, would have permitted her to go 
on in her part as before; but now she could see that he 
was thoroughly in earnest, and the question came despair- 
ingly into her mind, what she should do next? 

The manager evidently pitied her situation. 

Believe me. Miss Lyle/Mie said, 'Mf it were at all 
possible, I should be more than pleased to allow you to 
still occupy your former position; but, unfortunately, the 
press has got hold of the affair, and your name is in large 
capitals in every journal in the city as having eloped with 
some fast man about town. You can, of course, deny 
the imputation through the same columns, but I am sorry 
to say I doubt if the denial would be believed. If I can 
assist you in any way to procure a new engagement, 1 shall 
be more than happy to do so. I have no doubt that in 
some of the minor theaters the notority the circum- 
stance has attached to your name will be an additional 
attraction, but it would never do with the patrons of the 
Thespian.’^ 

Bravely struggling to check the tears that were arising 
from her full heart, Isabel arose from her seat, and 
drawing her veil over her face passed out of the theater 
into the street. The shock had been so sudden, the blow 
so crushing, that as yet she could scarcely realize the full 
extent of its meaning, and in a dazed, bewildered way, she 
bent her steps toward home. 

Better for her, perhaps, had she never again gone near 
the house. Had she not done so, her heart would at least 
have been spared the most cruel stab it had ever known. 
The man who had caused all this unmerited shame and 
sorrow to fall upon her was already there, and had still 
further poisoned the fast-weakening mind of the banker’s 
widow against her. 

Standing by the window, he had seen her approaching 
slowly along the street, and crossing the room, he laid his 
hand upon Mrs. Gold win’s arm. 

She IS coming, madam,” he said, looking at her with 
all the power of his deep, magnetic eyes, and before the 
glance of which hers drooped and fell. Perhaps it 
would be better that she should not see me, and I will 
step into the nex;t room while you express your opinion of 


96 


LAUGHING EYES. 


her conduct to her. It has been more than disgraceful. 
It has shown the vilest ingratitude for 3’our kindness.” 

As he uttered the last words, he passed into the inner 
room, leaving the door ajar. The two Misses Goldwin 
were not at home, and Mrs. Goldwin and himself had 
been the only persons in the house. Hardly had he thus 
hidden himself than the door opened, and Isabel entered 
the outer apartment. 

My dear mamma,” she said, her beautiful eyes dim 
with the tears she could not restrain, '"I am so sorry I 
should have caused you such anxiety, but I am home 
again now, and I know you will forgive me.” 

She stretched forth her arms as she spoke, to fling them 
about her adopted mother’s neck, but Mrs. Goldwin 
arose from her seat, checking the loving action. 

Your repentance has come very soon,” she said, in a 
querulous, trembling voice. ^‘Surely you cannot have 
tired of your lover so soon. Go back to him again, for 
from this hour this ceases to be your home.” 

Had some one struck the girl an unexpected blow the 
effect could not have been more utterly crushing. With 
an involuntary cry of pained surprise, she started back, 
trembling in every limb, as if she must sink to the floor. 

Mamma!” she wailed, still almost doubting that she 
could have heard aright, but too agitated to utter another 
word. 

Perhaps, had she been alone, Mrs. Goldwin might have 
relented, but the unseen influence of the man who seemed 
to have gained such power over her, and who, she knew, 
was watching her every action from the next apartment, 
nerved her to the cruel course she was pursuing, and 
once more raising her hand, she again pointed to the 
door. 

Begone!” she cried. ^"The disgrace already upon 
us was not enough, but you must bring us more.” 

'" Mamma— mamma!” the girl began again, but again 
she interrupted her. 

" It is useless talking,” she said. " Begone!” 

The girl’s face was pallid as that of a corpse, and her 
features twitched spasmodically for a moment or two, as 
if she must swoon away. Only for a moment, however, 
and her sense of the cruel injustice of the decision came 


LAUGHING EYES. 


97 


to her relief, and she turned and walked witli a natural 
dignity toward the door. 

“ 1 will do as you wish, Mrs. Goldwin,’^ she said, in a 
voice of strained calmness. ‘‘I thank you for all the 
kindness you have shown me, and may God forgive you, 
as I do, for your injustice to me to-night.'’^ 

The next moment the door had closed behind her, and 
she had gone out into the night, heart-broken, homeless, 
friendless, forsaken. 


CHAPTER XX. 

IN WHICH THE HOUR OF RETRIBUTION COMES. 

As the door closed behind the girPs retreating figure 
the secretary emerged from the inner room. Repentant 
now, for her harshness, Mrs. Goldwin was sobbing as if 
her heart would break, and approaching hery he laid his 
hand upon her arm. 

It must have been very painful to you,^^ he said, in a 
voice of assumed compassion, ^'but you only did your 
duty. Poor girl, though! she is very young and inex- 
perienced, and I will follow her in case she should do 
something rash.^' 

Oh, do, please,” the lady entreated, pressing her 
hands against her forehead. “1 was more than cruelly 
unjust. Bring her back to me, and I will go on my knees 
and ask her pardon for my unkindness. Lose no time, 
but go at once.” 

A look of contempt for the poor woman he had made 
the catspaw of his evil designs was upon the secretary's 
face, but his voice was still one of compassion, as he 
answered: 

^^Have no fear, I will bring her back to you, for, in 
spite of all that has happened, I love her, and am still 
willing to make her my wife.” 

The lady made no reply. Her faced was buried in her 
hands, while she still sobbed as if her heart would break, 
and taking up his hat, the designing villain left the 
house. 

The clocks were stricking seven as he reached the 
street, and as the sound fell upon his ears, an impreca- 
tion left his lips. He had been told by Mr. Stanhope to 
meet him at that hour, and making aU possible haste, it 


98 


LAUGHING EYES, 


would be yet half an hour before he could reach Fifth 
Avenue. 

For a moment or two he stood in doubt as to whether 
he should follow the girl, or keep the appointment with 
his master. He knew too well Louis Hayle^s stern char- 
acter to imagine he would overlook such negligence, 
while his words hinted that he had, perhaps, also other 
reasons for not wishing to incur his displeasure. 

No,^’ he said, I dare not risk it yet. The man is a 
fiend in human form — ruthless and relentless. 

Hailing a passing hack, he promised the driver double 
fare to make all possible speed, and before half an liour 
had passed he had reached the elegant mansion occupied 
by Louis Hayle, or Stanhope, as he still chose to be 
called. 

He found his master in the library, pacing impatiently 
up and down with a frown dark as midnight upon his 
face. 

^^Well, sir,^’ he said, stopping suddenly short as the 
secretary entered, ^‘^may I ask the reason of your not 
being here at the time I mentioned ? Is it that you think 
you have wormed yourself into enough of my secrets to 
brave me and what I know?” 

Before the look and tone of his master the secretary's 
eyes sought the ground. Arch-villain though he might 
be, in Mr. Stanhope’s presence he did not dare to dispute 
his superiority. 

Believe me, sir, it was not intentional,” he answered, 
apologetically. The train was delayed more than two 
hours, and it was impossible I could arrive before.” 

Louis Hayle’s dark eyes looked at him as if they would 
read his very soul. He knew the man was lying, and, 
trying to imagine what his purpose in doing so might be 
for a few moments longer, he stood looking at him in 
silence. 

'"Well,” he said, at length, "do not let it occur again. 
These letters all require to be answered to-night. Lose 
no time, but begin at once.” 

Submissively the secretary seated himself at the desk 
and began to do as he was desired, while, for fully a quar- 
ter of an hour longer, his master continued to pace up 
and down the floor. 

His thoughts were dark and gloomy ones. He sus/- 


LAUGHING EYES. 


09 


pected the secretary of treachery of some sort, but what it 
was he could not decide. Suddenly he stopped short in 
his rapid walk and stood facing him, so that the light 
fell full upon the younger man’s face. 

"'Do Mrs. Goldwin and her daughters still live in the 
same place?” he asked, abruptly. 

Before his master’s piercing glance the secretary’s eyes 
shifted uneasily as he answered in the affirmative. 

"And the girl— Isabel Lyle?” Louis Hayle went on. 
" Does she still live with them?” 

Again he was not slow to notice the shade of dismay 
that came upon the secretary’s countenance, and bending 
nearer to him he seized his arm in a vise-like grip. 

"William Harrison,” he said, in a voice pitilessly cold 
and stern, "beware how you play me false. I am going 
to see with my own eyes how you have carried out my 
instructions, and if you have overstepped them in ever so 
slight a degree, it would be better for you to let me find 
you lying dead when I return. You knowmy power, and 
also, that I will not hesitate to use it.” 

The secretary’s face became almost ashen, and his 
fingers trembled so that he could hardly guide the pen. 
He attempted to make no answer, however, but bent his 
face close to the sheet before him, while the master rang 
the bell for a servant to order the carriage. 

'No sooner was he left alone, and he had heard the sound 
of the wheels rolling away, than? the secretary started to 
his feet, his whole form trembling. 

"It has come at last,” he said, hoarsely. "It is a war 
now to the deadly end between us. My last hope is the 
girl, and find her I must.” 

Taking a key from his pocket, and crossing the room 
to where a carved antique escritoire was standing, he 
opened it, and taking out a roll of bills he relocked the 
desk, and placed the money in his pocket. Then seizing 
his hat he passed hurriedly out into the street. 

Meanwhile, the man wlio held this mysterious power 
over him had been driven rapidly as possible to the street 
in which the banker’s widow lived. Leaving the carriage 
at the corner of the street with directions to the driver to 
wait until his return, he proceeded on foot until he had 
reached the house. 

The door was opened by Mrs. Goldwin herself. In 


100 


LAmniNG EYES, 


the darkness she did not recognize her visitor, and 
imagined him to be Mr. Smith returning. 

Have you found her?"^ she cried, eagerly. ^^Oh, do 
not tell me that you have not!^^ 

‘‘ You labor under a mistake, madam,” the visitor 
was beginning, when leaning forward she recognized 
liim. 

‘‘Louis Hayle!” she gasped. 

“Yes, Alice,” he answered, “but I have not come to 
annoy yon in any way. Believe me ” 

Before he could finish the sentence, however, a gasping 
cry had left the lady^s lips, and she swooned upon the 
floor of the hall. 

Closing the door, he raised her in his arms and carried 
her up the staircase, at the head of which he was met by 
the two Misses Goldwin, who were loud in their eixpres- 
sions of amazement and dismay. 

“ Where is the other young lady?” he asked. “Miss 
Lyle, I believe she is called.” 

Miss Matilda, to whom the question was addressed, 
tossed her head scornfully, as she answered: 

“ I really cannot inform you,” she said, with a spiteful 
little laugh. “Since Miss Lyle assumed the name of 
Vane, we know very little of her actions. You can read 
in the papers of her elopement, if you wish. Even after 
that she had the impertinence to return here, and mamma 
very properly refused to allow her to remain.” 

As the girl spoke, Louis Hayle’s first expression of 
wondering surprise changed to the deepest agitation, and 
he seized the girl’s wrist so fiercely as to cause her to utier 
a little cry of pain. 

“And you have dared among you to do this?” he said. 
“And I, unsuspecting fool enough to trust that villain 
whom I have kept from the galleys for so long; but, by 
Heaven, if he has not taken my advice he shall live no 
longer. Tell me,” he went on, wildly, addressing Mrs. 
Goldwin, who had by this time recovered her senses, “ is 
what this girl tells me true? Has she become the 
notorious actress, the story of whose elopement is heralded 
in every paper in the Union? Have you turned her from 
your house?” 

Mrs. Goldwin burst into a floor of tears. 

“ It was cruel, it was unjust of me,” sh^ried. “ Oh, 


LAUGHING EYES. 


101 


bring her back to me, and on mj bended knees I will ask 
her forgiveness/’ 

is too late,” he answered, despairingly. Alice 
Lyle, your vengeance upon me now for all I have ever 
done to you is greater than you can imagine. There is a 
Nemesis in this world that brings its retribution sooner 
or later upon all those who do evil. I thought I had no 
longer any heart, but I find I have, and it is broken. 
The girl that my foolish desire for vengeance upon you 
has driven to disgrace and shame, is my own daughter.” 

In spite of his efforts to control himself, the expression 
of his face showed plainly the fierce emotions that were 
raging within him, and a groan of pain broke from his 
lips. Kightly had he said retribution had at last over- 
taken him; still it was only the beginning, and there was 
yet more to follow. 


CHAPTEK XXL 

IK WHICH AKOTHEK AVEKGER OF THE PAST ARISES. 

Akd Laughing Eyes! 

Utterly crushed in spirit, and with her sensitive nature 
wounded until she could feel no more, it seemed to the 
girl as if her heart was broken. All she wished, all she 
longed for was some quiet place where she could crawl 
alone like some wild, \younded thing, and die. 

She wandered on through the streets thus until two 
hours had passed, and the clocks throughout the city 
struck the hour of nine. With a desperate effort she 
strove to arouse herself from the bewildered feeling that 
was upon her, and to think what she should do next. 

Her limbs seemed heavy as lead, and there was a dull, 
cruel pain throbbing in her temples as though they must 
burst. Strive as she would, she could not summon her 
faculties sufficiently to think of one subject for two 
seconds consecutively. 

She had, by this time, reached the river side, and she 
could see the lights on the ferry boats, and the shipping 
in the stream flashing through the darkness. Instinct- 
ively placing her hand in her pocket, she found she had 
but a few - cents, and with no definite idea in her mind, 
she took a passage in one of the boats across the river. 

Seating herself in the ladies’ cabin, she experienced a 


102 


LAUGHING EYES. 


dull, numb feeling of languor stealing over her. The 
rest of the passengers seemed to fade into a distant haze, 
and in place of them she saw old faces, forgotten for 
years; of Bill Dike and Ikey Smith, and the pompous 
old butler whom she had so often made the butt of her 
childish practical jokes; and she was once more under the 
care of old Moil Higgins, and picking blackberries by the 
roadside. 

Then, in an instant, the vision faded quickly as it had 
come, and recollecting where she really was, she tried to 
start to her feet, but found herself utterly powerless to 
do so. 

Theii'she felt a coldness as of death creeping over her, 
and with a little gasping sob, she fell unconscious upon 
the floor of the cabin. 

In an instant the whole of the passengers crowded 
around her, loud in their expressions of sympathy, while 
a sweet-faced lady knelt beside her and raised her uncon- 
scious head upon her knee. 

By this time the boat had reached the wharf, and the 
deck hand approaching, was about to send for the ambu- 
lance to convey her to the hospital, when a tall, elegant- 
looking man made his way through the crowd. 

1 will take care of this young lady,^^ he said, in quick, 
decisive tones, ‘‘if I may presume to ask this lady, who 
has already been so kind, to accompany her in the car- 
riage to a physician^’s house. 

After a moment’s hesitation, the lady agreed, and the 
girl’s still unconscious form being lifted into the carriage, 
they were driven a few blocks to the house of a physician. 

Fortunately he was at home, and a moment’s glance 
showing him the girl, who had by this time again opened 
her eyes, and was talking wildly of incidents that had 
happened years ago, was in the delirium of brain fever, 
he consented to receive her in his own house, and use all 
his skill for her recovery. 

Griving the physician a hundred -dollar bill, he requested 
him to spare no expense, and saying that he would call 
again in the morning to learn the patient’s progress, the 
gentleman left the house and walked to the corner of the 
street, where another man was awaiting him. 

“Do you know, Devereux,” the latter said, as arm-in- 
arm they sauntered toward the hotel, “ I look upon you 


LAUGHING EYES. 


103 


as the most perfect living prototype of Cervantes^ ^ Knight 
de la Mancha/ You are always rushing into some 
Quixotic adventure, rescuing innocence in distress, and 
so on/^ 

Why should I not, if it pleases me!” the other an- 
swered, with a laugh. ‘‘You know my income can alford 
a few whims of this kind if I choose ?” 

“ True; but do you know who the young lady you have 
taken under your protection is?” 

“How should I? You know I never set eyes on her 
before to-night.” 

“She is no other than the so lately become notorious 
actress, Isabel Vane.” 

The other’s look of incredulous astonishment was so 
genuine, that his companion broke into a hearty laugh. 

“ As you remarked, my dear fellow,” he said, “ you are 
quite able to afford it, so it does not matter; but you 
know I have but little faith in human nature. I believe 
if you did not have me always beside you as mentor you 
would be insolvent in less than a month. As it is, even 
my advice so often repeated cannot prevent you from as- 
suming the part of an amateur detective, and wandering 
about the earth like an Ishmaelite, in search of a man 
who is dead years ago.” 

At the words the other’s face grew pale and stern. 

“Harold,” he said, “I thought that subject was one 
never to be mentioned between us? Call it Quixotic, call 
it what you will, but you know I am determined. He 
shot my friend, poor De St. Roche, like a dog. It was 
murder, if ever there was murder yet. He is an assassin, 
and the day that Louis Hayle and I meet face to face, one 
of us dies,” 


CHAPTER XXII. 

IN' WHICH THE SECRETARY MEETS HIS DOOM. 

For a few moments longer Louis Hayle stood in the 
same utterly dejected attitude. Then arousing himself 
with an effort, he again addressed the lady. 

“ How long since she was here?” he asked. 

“Hot more than an hour,” Mrs. Goldwin answered, 
wringing her hands. Oh, how cruel I was, and how 
unjust. God grant that Mr. Smith may find her.” 


104 


LAUGHING EYES. 


At the words a new light broke over Louis Hayle’s 
mind. 

Mr. Smith/’ he asked, eagerly. ‘^Who is he?” 

‘‘ A most estimable young man,” Mrs. Goldwin hastened 
to reply, ^^who has been the only friend we have known 
since my poor husband’s death. My husband was very 
kind to him when he was a boy, and he has never for- 
gotten it, but shows his gratitude by his friendly sympathy 
for us. He especially was attracted by Isabel, and more 
than once offered to make her his wife. I am sure 
I ” 

A fierce oath that came crashing from between Louis 
Hayle’s teeth, interrupted the sentence. A frown, dark 
as midnight, was upon his brow, and his eyes were aflame 
with rage. 

‘^The scoundrel!” he hissed. I see it all. He would 
have made her his wife to secure the fortune. It was a 
deep-laid scheme, but it has failed, and as I live, William 
Harrison, you shall bitterly account for it.” 

The words, though vehement with concentrated pas- 
sion, were spoken more to himself than his astonished 
hearers, and turning, without another word, he left the 
house. 

With rapid steps he reached the carriage waiting at the 
corner of the street, and ordering the driver to make the 
utmost haste home, he threw himself impatiently upon 
the velvet cushions, a very tempest of emotions surging 
in his breast. 

Arrived at last at the door of his elegant residence, he 
entered and proceeded direct to the library. When he 
saw that the secretary was not there, he betrayed no sur- 
prise, but a more evil look came into his face, and ring- 
ing the bell impatiently, in a moment or two a servant 
answered the summons. 

Send Mr. Marks to me, instantly,” he said. 

The servant left the room to obey the command, but in 
a moment or two returned with the information that Mr. 
Marks had gone out nearly an hour ago; and once more 
left alone, a look of malignant satisfaction came into 
Louis Hayle’s face. 

It is well that I mistrusted you,” he muttered, as if 
addressing some invisible person, ^^and set a spy upon 
your actions to-day. If I had done it sooner it might 


LAUGHING EYES. 


105 


have spared me more anguish than I have known for 
years/’ 

A groan broke from his lips as he uttered the last words, 
and seating himself, he sank into a fit of melancholy, 
brooding thought. 

Meanwhile, Mr. William Harrison had been making 
the best of his way toward the home of tlie banker’s 
widow to try and discover some clew by which to trace 
the flight of the discarded girl. 

After leaving the house he had hailed a hack and been 
driven several blocks in an opposite direction, so as to 
still further throw any of the servants who might have 
seen him go out, or watched the direction in which he 
went, off the track. Tlien proceeding in still another 
direction, he again hailed a hack and was driven to his 
destination. 

Complete as he had deemed his precautions, however, 
they were of no avail, for the figure of a man had tracked 
him from the very door of his master’s house. He had 
taken a hack when the secretary had done so, had fol- 
lowed him on foot and then again in a carriage, until he 
had at last alighted not a hundred yards away, and 
almost at the same moment the man he was following 
had done. 

His face was unknown to the secretary, and therefore 
his task of shadowing him was easier than it would 
otherwise have been. He dogged him step by step, 
heard every question he asked and the answer he received, 
until at last he had found some clew to the girl and had 
reached the Newark Ferry. Then, while the secretary 
was asking some questions of the loungers about the sta- 
tion, the man who was tracking him found time to tele- 
graph a few words to his employer. 

Newark Ferry,” the dispatch ran; ‘^will detain him 
until you arrive.” 

The message came to Louis Hayle as he still sat deep 
in dark and gloomy brooding in his library, and within 
five minutes he was dashing toward the place mentioned 
as fast as horses could carry him. 

The man who had tracked the secretary and sent the 
telegram was a private detective whom Louis Hayle had 
that very afternoon employed to keep watch upon his 
secretary’s actions during his absence, and now for the 


106 


LAUGHING EYES. 


first time allowing himself to be seen, he approached the 
young man and addressed him. 

''Did I hear you say you were looking for a young 
girl?^^ he said, assuming the air and manner of a rough. 

" Yes,” Harrison answered, eagerly. " Have you seen 
her?” 

" A sort of a daisy, too,” the detective went on coolly, 
accompanying his words with a knowing wink. " Great 
blue eyes and yaller hair, but with a kind of a scared 
look in them?” 

"Yes, that is she,” the secretary cried, still more 
eagerly. '' Which way did she go? Show me and I will 
give you ten dollars.” 

" You Ye the very sort of a chap I like to meet,” the 
pretended rough answered. "Come with me and Til 
show you just the way she went.” 

He took the secretary Y arm as he spoke, and leading 
him away from the dock, contrived by various excuses to 
waste more than half an hour in searching for the fugi- 
tive in places she had never been, until Harrison, 
losing patience, shook him off with a curse and returned 
aloiie to the ferry. Here the words of a couple of men 
standing near the gate, who spoke of a young girl who 
had fainted on board of one of the boats that night, 
called a triumphant look into the secretary Y face, 
and asking a few further particulars and learning the 
name of the physician to whose house she had been 
taken, he at once got upon the boat which had just come 
in. 

As he passed through the gate a carriage drove rapidly 
up, and a man hastily alighted. 

"He has just this minute gone on board,” Mr. Marks 
said, hurriedly, and without making any reply, the next 
moment Louis Hayle had also passed through the gate. 

Hardly had he done so than it was closed again, making 
it impossible for the detective to follow him, and by the 
time Louis Hayle had reached the edge of the wharf, the 
boat had already moved out several feet; but making a 
desperate leap he was just able to save himself by catch- 
ing the chains with his hands. 

The night was very dark, and a heavy mist was driving 
up the river. There were but few passengers on board, 
and they, for the most part, sought the shelter of the 


LAUGHING EYES, 


107 


cabins. Forward, but one solitary figure of a man was 
standing, and toward him Louis Hayle approached. 

It was the secretary, but so absorbed was lie in his own 
reflections, that he did not move or even look up until 
the other stood beside him, and then recognizing his 
master, an involuntary ejaculation of mingled surprise 
and dismay left his lips. 

Traitor!^’ 

That was the only word Louis Ilayle uttered, and the 
next moment he had the younger man by the throat, liis 
fingers closing about it like bands of steel. A look that 
was actually demoniac was on his face, and in it the sec- 
retary read his doom. 

lie could neither utter an appeal for mercy nor a cry 
for help. The relentless fingers still kept closing tighter, 
and his assailant, with a strength against which he was 
nowerless as a child, was bending him backward until iiis 
t)6dy was almost double over the railing. Not until the 
secretary’s face was purple, and his tongue protruded 
from his mouth, did Louis Hayle release his hold, and 
when at last he did so, it was an inert mass of senseless 
clay that fell with a splash into the seething water before 
the steamer’s wheels. 


CHAPTER XXIII. 

m WHICH THE AVEHaER LOSES IlfS VICTIM. 

The look upon Louis Hayle ’s face as he peered breath- 
less over the railing into the murky darkness below, listen- 
ing with a terrible intentness for any cry that might 
leave the lips of the unhappy wretch,' was almost that of 
a maniac. None came, however, and for an instant he 
looked at the seething water beneath him, and then with 
his hand clutching at his throat as if in sudden pain, 
glanced hurriedly arofind to see if any one had witnessed 
his terrible deed. 

No one was in sight. No human eye had seen the 
crime committed. That of God alone had done so, and 
m the inscrutable wisdom of His hands alone rested the 
vengeance. 

By this time the boat was nearing the shore, and the 
passengers soon began to crowd forward. In a few mo- 
ments more it ground against the wharf, and mingling 
with the crowd, Louis Hayle landed with the rest. 


108 


LAUGHING EYES, 


He walked to the nearest saloon, and pouring a glass 
nearly full of brandy, swallowed it at a draught. The 
spirits steadied his agitated nerves a little, and allowed 
him to think what he should do next. He had not 
heard of the girl having fainted, and his object in com- 
ing on board at all was only to find his secretary. How 
terribly he had repaid his treachery is already known, 
and once more going on board the boat, he returned to 
New York. 

He found the carriage still waiting for him, as was 
the private detective, and entering it he gave orders to 
be driven home at once. 

You led me on a false scent,” he said, sternly, to the 
detective. ^^He was not on board.” 

^‘Then he must have gone into the river,” Mr. Marks 
answered, decidedly, ^‘^for on board I saw him go with 
my own eyes.” 

It does not matter,” his employer answered. am 
well rid of him so cheaply, and now I have another and 
more important case for you to undertake.” 

With this preface he told the detective of his desire to 
find Isabel, offering him a reward should he be success- 
ful that caused the man^s eyes to open with astonishment. 
By the time he had told him all he knew of the girl’s 
disappearance to assist him in the search, the door of his 
residence was reached, and with a parting admonition to 
lose no time, but set about it at once, Louis Hayle as- 
cended the stoop and entered the house. 

The servants looked at him in surprise as he passed 
along the hall and entered the library. A change as of 
ten years seemed to have come over him since he had 
gone out two or three hours before, and when he had at 
last reached the apartment and synk into a chair, he 
looked like a man utterly crushed and broken down. 

The reflection of his face in the huge mirror over the 
mantel startled even himself. With the electric rapidity 
of a thought, its similitude to another face, whose owner 
he had so pitilessly led on to ruin and suicide came into 
his mind, and as it did so, a groan broke from his lips. 

It is Nemesis,” he said, huskily. ‘^I feel the end 
is coming fast now. It is the last stroke of the bitter 
fate that has tracked me all my life, but I will meet it as 
I have done the rest.” 


LAUGHING EYES. 


109 


llising, lie crossed the room to the antique, carved 
escritoire from which his secretary had taken the money. 
He noticed the loss in an instant, but it passed immediately 
out of his mind again, and taking a package of papers 
tied with red tape from a secret compartment, he returned 
to the desk, and drawing a quire of paper toward him 
began to write. 

Tlie gray dawn as it struggled through the stained 
glass windows found him still thus busily engaged. The 
sun rose and the sleeping city awoke to another day^s 
work," but not until the clock liad struck ten did he arise 
from his seat, and carefully sealing the sheet he had 
written with the papers he had taken from the escritoire, 
he rang the bell for the servant and ordered him to send 
for his lawyer to wait upon him at once. 

Hardly had the man departed upon his errand than 
another servant knocked at the door, with the news that 
Mr. Marks was below and wished to see him. 

Giving orders for him to be admitted at once, he took 
a turn or two up and down the room, and then stood 
with folded arms before the door, facing him as he 
entered. 

^^Welir hesaid. 

believe I have found her, sir,” the detective 
answered. Read this.” 

He placed a copy of the morning paper in hi^ hands as 
he spoke, and Louis Hayle, glancing down the column, 
saw an account of the girhs swoon upon the ferry boat the 
previous night. As his eyes ran over the lines, he rang 
the bell violently and ordered the carriage instantly. 

Again crossing the room, he sat down, and rapidly 
writing a check, thrust it into the detective^s hand; and 
then, without another word, passed out of the room to 
the street door, up to which the carriage had just driveu. 

Leaving Mr. Marks still staring in dumb surprise at the 
amount of the check, he sprung into the carriage and gave 
the driver orders to urge his horses as fast as possible to 
the Newark Ferry. 

In less than half an hour he had reached it, and in 
about the same time longer he had crossed the ferry and 
rang the bell of the physician^s house mentioned in the 
newspaper report. 


no 


LAUGHING EYES, 


Inquiring for the doctor, he was shown into a small 
parlor where two gentlemen were already waiting. 

Too absorbed by his own bitter reflections, Louis Hayle 
merely glanced at them, and then, walking toward the 
window, stood waiting impatiently until the doctor should 
be disengaged,, when one of them approached and laid his 
hand upon his shoulder. 

^^Am I addressing Louis Hayle?” he said, in a voice 
inexpressibly stern. 

The man addressed started as from a reverie, and looked 
at him in a bewildered sort of way for an instant x)r two, 
but did not answer. 

^^Do not attempt to deny it,” the other went on, vehe- 
mently; ‘^for if you do I will strike you down where you 
stand like a dog. 1 know you are an assassin, whose 
hands are red with the blood of my friend, poor young 
De St. Eoche, and I have sworn to avenge his murder. 
Avenge it I will ” 

As the last words left his lips he made a motion as if to 
seize Louis Hayle by the throat, but his companion ad- 
vanced and dragged him back by main force. 

‘^Do not make an ass of yourself, Devereux, he said. 

Mr. Hayle, as this gentleman^s friend, I will wait upon 
you in an hour.” 

Louis Hayle bowed slightly, but did not speak, and the 
next moment a servant entered, announcing the doctor 
would receive Mr. Stanhope, and with another slight bow 
to the last speaker, he followed the man to the doctor^s 
presence. 

In a few hurried words he told the physician his story, 
that the unconscious girl placed by the charity of strangers 
under his care was his own child, the heiress to his immense 
wealth; and almost speechless with surprise, the doctor 
led the way to the chamber where his patient lay. 

Poor little Laughing Eyes, as she lay there in the delir- 
ious unconsciousness of the fever, was a sight to call 
tears into even the most unsympathetic eyes. They had, 
with what seemed almost cruel kindness, cut off all the 
wealth of her golden hair, and her great, violet eyes had 
a wistful, vacant look in them inexpressibly touching, as 
she alternately spoke of scenes of her childhood, and wept 
despairingly over her adopted mother’s harsh treatment 
of her. 


LAUGHING EYES. 


Ill 


As the wretched man, her father, who had so long dis- 
owned her, looked upon her, a groan broke from his 
lips: 

^^May Grod forgive me,^^ he gasped, brokenly, and 
then taking the poor little fevered hand in his own, he 
knelt beside the bed, and buried his face in the coverlet. 

What his thoughts were God alone can tell. All his 
life he had rebelled against his destiny. Like Lucifer, 
his pride had been his ruin, and now he found it broken 
and utterly crushed in the dust. As the prince of fallen 
angels at last owned the Omnipotent will, perhaps for the 
first time in his stormy life Louis Hayle owned it now. 

He still knelt in the same attitude without word or 
motion. Only once a sharp, shooting pain crossed his 
breast, and then a blissful, dreamy languor came over 
him. His father had died of heart disease, and now 
the spirit of the wayward son, like a keen-edged blade in 
its leather scabbard, had at last worn itself through and 
was free. 

The delirious girl sought to free her hand from his 
grasp, but he still held it fast, and when the physician 
laid his hand upon his shoulder to arouse him, his form 
was stiff and rigid, and unresponsive to the touch. The 
cord so long strained to its utmost tension had snapped at 
last, and he was dead. 

His death had been a painless one. Upon his cold and 
pallid cheek a tear still glistened, and in justice to Him, ^ 
to whom a hundred years is but as a day, that last mo- 
ment of contrition may have outweighed a multitude of 
sins. His faults were many, but the mercy of God is in- 
finite, and though our sins may be as scarlet, He can 
make them white as driven snow. 


CHAPTER XXIV. 

IN WHICH THE ABSENT LOVE RETURNS, AND THE STORY 
ENDS. 

For several days longer Isabel lay in the delirium of 
the fever, while her spirit lingered between life and 
d eath. 

At last, however, the crisis came, and she sank into a 
calm and placid sleep, upon the manner of her awaken- 
ing from which depended her life and reason. 


112 


LAUGHING EYES. 


Through the dreary watches of the night, with an ago- 
nized prayer ever throbbing from her heart, her adopted 
mother, more than repentant now for all her harshness 
toward her, watched by her couch until, as the gray dawn 
broke, one of the two angels who hovered over the sick 
girl — the one with the dark robes and wreath of aspho- 
dels — spread his wings, and left the chamber to the gent- 
ler spirit of returning health. 

The sick girl awoke to perfect consciousness, and 
looked about her for a moment in a bewildered way. 
Then, with a shudder, recollection came back to her, and 
she turned her face upon the pillow again, almost wish- 
ing she had died. 

Tremblingly, from the shadow of the curtain where 
she had been sitting, Mrs. Goldwin arose, and bending 
over the bed, placed her arms hesitatingly about her 
neck. 

Isabel — love,’^ she whispered, ^^dare I ask you to 
forgive me?^’ 

The large violet eyes, very hollow and wistful-looking, 
now were raised for a moment in wondering surprise. 
Then a glad cry left the girl's lips, and she flung her 
arms about the neck of her adopted mother with a joy 
too deep for words. 

The reconciliation was complete, and a feeling of 
almost perfect happiness had come over the girl’s spirit. 
Only one thing was wanting, and this also was to be added, 
although she knew it not. 

Isabel, my darling," the lady said, a day or two after- 
ward, when her convalescence was assured, and the tint 
of returning health was beginning to creep into the girl's 
wan cheeks, a gentleman has just called to inquire after 
you. He has done so every day for more than a week 
past " 

A great, delicious hope sprung to life in the girl's 
breast, and with a crimson flush mantling her face and 
throat and brow, she interrupted the lady's words, and 
asked the visitor's name. 

‘Ht has become quite a celebrated one lately," Mrs. 
Goldwin answered. ''It is Clarence Ford, and he is the 
painter who won the grand prize in the European exhibi- 
tion by his picture of Rosalind." 

A feeling of tlie most perfect bliss thrilled the girl's 


LAUGHING EYES, 


113 


heart, and burying her face in the pillow, she wept her 
fill of happy tears. 

'‘He loves me — he loves meP^ she kept repeating to 
herself. “ I must make haste and get well again, that I 
can hear his own dear voice tell me so.” 

But in this hope Isabel was doomed to disappointment. 
No sooner had her recovery become assured than the 
artistes visits suddenly ceased. He was a young man of 
more than ordinarily sensitive nature, as all wlio achieve 
anything above the common herd must of necessity be, 
and he felt keenly the newly arisen difference in their so- 
cial stations. 

The will of Louis Hayle, which was dated nearly a year 
previously, had left to her without reserve the whole of 
his enormous fortune, while the document he had written 
the night before his death, was a full account of her 
birth, with the documents necessary to prove its legiti- 
macy, and the knowledge of these facts fully accounted 
for the deep game the secretary had played in order to 
make her his wife. 

To the artist’s sensitive mind, this wealth seemed an 
insurmountable bar to his ever daring to dream of 
winning her. He had long ago acknowledged to himself 
his passion for her, and had intended, upon returning, to 
ask her to be his wife. Now he felt this hope was blighted 
forever. Their positions were now reversed. When he 
had first known her and learned to love her, she had 
been poor, and sat to him as his model, to earn bread for 
herself and her adopted relatives to eat. Now she was an 
heiress, and he but a poor artist, who, though his ex- 
hibited picture had laid the foundation of future fame, 
yet had to work hard for a livelihood, and whose earnings 
for a whole year did not amount to a sum she might throw 
to a beggar in the street, and never miss. He never 
would, he resolved, lay himself open to the imputation of 
a fortune-hunter. As he had been silent before, so he 
must remain now, and try to forget, in his art, impossible 
dreams of what might never be. 

And Isabel, unknowing of this, waited in vain for him 
to return, until hope gradually sank in her heart, and 
she began to despair of ever seeing him again. 

Had he forgotten her? she asked herself; but to the 
question there was no answer. Time alone could tell. 


114 


LAUGHING EYES. 


Time tells all things. 

Once more it is summer, and at Goldwin Hall its old 
mistress reigns, and the little brown-faced girl who picked 
berries by the roadside, and was looked upon with scorn 
by the banker’s two daughters, is its heiress, and they are 
dependents upon her bounty. 

It is not, however, grudgingly dispensed. Wealth has 
made no change in the girl, and the two young ladies are 
treated with as much respect, and have as much money 
at their command, as when their father owned the house, 
and they were heiresses to millions. 

A year has passed since the death of the father whom 
she had never known, and Isabel has risen early this 
morning, the last of her girl -life, for to-day she is to be 
married. 

As she walks slowly through the fields where the dew 
is not yet dry upon the grass, she is very happy. Love is 
a tyrant. It is omnipotent, and cannot be controlled at 
will, and after months of struggling against his passion, 
the artist had at last sought her again, and, subduing his 
sensitive pride, told her the story of his love. Who can 
doubt what the girl’s answer was? The moment was the 
crowning happiness of her life, and the marriage was 
fixed to take place as soon as her year of mourning was at 
an end. 

This morning it was on a sacred duty she was bound, 
and she walked on through the fields until she came to 
the little graveyard, and kneeling beside the plain, marble 
tombstone, engraved with the one word father,” she 
laid a wreath of flowers upon the grave. 

In the time that had elapsed since her father’s death 
she had learned to understand his nature better, and the 
first bitter animosity she had felt against him had given 
place to a deep regret. And after all his wild and stormy 
life, Louis Ilayle was thought of sorrowfully, and his 
grave not forgotten. 

Her loving duty to the dead accomplished, the girl 
turned to retrace her steps homeward, when her lover 
joined her. Together they walked toward the hall and 
together they entered. 

He led her to the great state drawing-room. A small 
fortune in wedding presents were spread upon the table. 


LAUGHING EYES. 


115 


I 

and standing by the window was an easel upon which was 
a picture covered with a curtain of crimson silk. 

Kaising it, the painter showed the picture to bo that of 
the Rosalind which had made his fame, and a cry of 
pleased and loving pleasure broke from the girl’s lips as 
she saw it, and a gratified look came into the artist’s eyes 
as he realized she understood the delicate sentiment that 
had prompted him to make it his wedding gift to her. 

Next to your love, darling,” he said, it is tlie thing 
dearest to me on earth. It is to you, my Rosalind, that 
I owe everything worth having in life.” 

There was a tremor in his voice as he spoke the words 
that showed how deep was the feeling that prompted 
them, and Isabel cast her arms about his neck and laid 
her soft cheek against his. 

You foolish fellow,” she whispered, I have never 
done anything that one kiss from you does not repay me 
for a thousand times.” 

And as he pressed her closer to his bosom, the artist 
knew that the love was changeless that shone so truth- 
fully from those beautiful Laughing Eyes. 


[the end.J 




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CHARLES READE’S WORKSr 


jfiO PRICK. 

39— Very Hard Cash 20 

144 — A Terrible Temptation 20 

158--It is Never too Late to Mend 20 

161— Foul Play 20 

162 — Put Yourself in His Place 20 

190— Griffith Gaunt 20 

198 — A Woman-Hater... 20 

201 — Readiana 10 

254 — The Knightsbridge Mystery, and The Picture 10 

GEO. W. M. REYNOLD’S WORKS. 

HO. PRICK, 

106— The Woman in Red 20 

148— Leila 20 

149 — Karaman, sequel to Leila 20 

265 — ^Agnes Evelyn 20 

266— The Child of Waterloo 20 

267 — Robert Macaire 20 

268 — The Mysteries of the Merry Monarch’s Court — Part I... 20 

269 — The Mvsteries of the Merry Monarch’s Court — Part II. 20 

270— The First False Step 20 

271 — The Slave Woman of England 20 

272 — Faust and the Demon — Part I 20 

1273— Faust and the Demon — Part II 20 

^274 — The Degraded Deserter — Part I ^ 

275 — The Degraded Deserter — Part H 20 

276— The Necromancer — Part 1 20 

277 — The Necromancer— Part II 20 

278— The Mystery of the Marchmonts— Part 1 2© 

279 — The Mystery of the Marchmonts — Part II 20 

280 — Bertram Vivian — Part 1 20 

281 — l^rtram Vivian— Part II 20 

282— The Countess of Lascelles — Part I 20 

283 — The Countess of Lascelles— Part H 20 

284 — The Doom of the Burker — Part 1 20 

285— The Doom of the Burker — Part II 20 

286— Rose Sommerville 20 

W— Tragic SceEues ^ 


MUNRO^S LIBRARY,— AUTHORS^ LIST, 


O. W. M. REYNOLD’S WORKS.-Continued. 


wo. PRTCBi, 

968 — The Young Duchess 20 

289— Imogen Hartland 20 

290 — Ethel Trevor ^ 

291 — Wagner, the Wehr-Wolf— Part I 20 

292— Wagner, the Wehr-Wolf— Part II 20 

^3 — Mysteries of the Court of Queen Elizabeth 20 

994 — Ada Arundel 20 

998— Olivia. 20 

99B— Joseph Wilmot— Part I........ 20 

99?— Joseph Wilmot— Part II 20 

igS-'Joeeph Wilmot— Part III 20 

999— The Greek Corsair — Part I 20 

800 — The Greek Corsair— Part II 20 

801 — ^The Greek Corsair — Part III 20 


W. CLARK RUSSELL’S WORKS. 

no. PRICK. 

167 — Jack’s Courtship 20 

188 — Sailor’s Sweetheart 20 


SIR WALTER SCOTT’S WORKS. 


no. PRICK. 

40 — Ivanhoe 20 

146 — The Monastery 20 

147— The Abbot, sequel to The Monastery 20 


CHARLOTTE M. STANLEY’S WORKS. 

no. 

111 — The Shadow of a Sin 

112— A Waif of the Sea 

113 — The Huntsford Fortune. 

114— The Secret of a Birth 

115 — Jessie Deane 

116 — A Golden Mask 

117— Accord and Discord 

118— A Death-bed Marriage 

ill9 — Hearts and Gold 


PRICK. 

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.. 20 
.. 20 
.. 20 
.. 20 
.. 20 
.. 20 
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EUGENE SUE’S WORKS. 

no, PRICK. 

166— The Wandering Jew— Vol. 1 20 

150 — The Wandering Jew-^Vol. II 20 

159 — The Mysteries of Paris — Vol. 1 20 

159 — The Mysteries of Paris — Vol. 11 29 


WM. MASON TURNER’S WORKS. 

^91 — Maggie; or, the Loom Girl of Lowell 

7^ Gertmdejthe Governess 


MUNjRaS LIBRARY.-- AUTHORS^ LIST, 


L. B. WALFORD’S WORKS. 


nu, I'MIUS. 

221 — The Baby’s Grandmother 20 

233— Mr. Smith 20 

236— Cousins 20 

237“Troublesome Daughters 2© 


F. WARDEN’S WORKS. 

310. PRICK.. 

121 — At the World’s Mercy 10 

2(26 — The House on the Marsh 20 

310— Deldee; or> The Iron Hand 20 


HRS. HENRY WOOD’S WORKS. 


*2% « PRICK, 

84— East Lynne 20 

280 — ^The Mystery 20 


EMILE ZOLA’S WORKS. 


NO. PRICK. 

155 — Life’s Joys 20 

202 — Mysteries of Louis Napoleon’s Court 20 


MISCELLANEOUS WORKS. 

wo. 

24— The Two Orphans, by D’Ennery 

27 — When the Ship Comes Home, by Besant and Rice. 

28 — John Halifax, Gentleman, by Miss Mulock 

30 — The Romantic Adventures of a Milkmaid 

S3 — Kit: a Memory, by James Payn 

43 — Charlotte Temple, by Mrs. Rowsoc 

52 — ^Two Wedding Rings, by Margaret Blount 

66 — The Curse of Dangerfield, by Elsie Snow 

60 — A Qu'en Amongst Women, and Between Two Sins. 

6 — Lucile, by Owen Meredith 

Co —Thaddeus of Warsaw, by Jane Porter 

64— Charles Auchester, by E. Berger 

67 — Barbara’s History, uy Amelia B. Edwards....; 

68— Called to Account, by Annie Thomas 

78 — A Double Marriage, by Beatrice Collensie 

79— The Wentworth Mystery, by Watts Phillips 

81 — Plot and Counterplot, Author of “ Quadroona”... 

86— Little Golden 

87— Daughters of Eve, by Paul Meritt 

91 — A Fatal Wooing, by Laura Jean Libbey 

94 — Merit Versus Money, by Garnett Mamell 

98 — Pauline, by the Author of “Leonnette’s Secret”... 

101 — Dregs and Froth, by A. H. Wall 

108 — The Eyrie, and The Mystery of a Young Girl 

109 — Gabrielle, by Louise McCarthy 

122 — Circumstantial Evidence 

124— Marjorie’s Child 

196 — A Coachman’s Love, by Herbert Bernard.. ............ 

DA&ftTOUB Gftmt, by ld» Linn 


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MUNma JjIBRABY.-’AUTHORS^ list. 


MISCELLANEOUS WORKS.-Continued. 

Ko. vnici.. 


133 — The Beautiful Rivals 

134 — For a Dream’s Sake, by Mrs. Herbert Martin 

136 — Mark Sea worth, by William H. G. Kingston 

136 — Regimental Legends, by J. S. Winter/. 

138 — Susan Drummond, by Mrs. J. H. Riddell 

139 — Robbing Peter to Pay Paul, by John Saunders 

'142 — The Flirt, by Mrs. Grey 

151 — The Queen’s Book, Victoria R. I 

152 — John Brown’s Legs, by Kenward Philp 

153 — Berlin Society, by Count Paul Vasili 

163— Leonine, by the Author of “For Mother’s Sake” 

166 — The Midshipman, Marmaduke Merry 

168 — An Old Man’s Love, by Anthony Trollope 

180— The Sun Maid, by Miss Grant 

182 — Cornin’ Thro’ the Rye, by Helen B. Mathers 

183— Nancy, by Rhoda Broughton 

203— The Way of the World, by David Christie Murray 

204 — Wild Oats, by Henry Greville 

206 — Claire and the Forge-Master, by George Ohnet 

207 — The Man She Cared For, by F. W. Robinson 

208 — Pretty Miss Neville, by B. M. Croker 

209 — Fourteen Years With Adelina Patti 

210— Sappho, by Alphonse Daudet 

213— Cruel as the Grave, by Genevive Ulmar 

228— A Sinless Secret, by “ Rita ” 

231 — The Gambler’s Wife, by Author of “ The Belle of the 

Family,” etc 

234— Beyond Recall, by Adeline Sergeant 

235 — The Parisian Detective, by F. Du Boisgobey 

239 — Love and Mirage 

243 — A Sea Change, by Flora L. Shaw 

251 — A Story of Three Sisters, by C. Maxwell 

257— Tom Brown’s School Days, by Thos. Hughes 

261 — The Lover’s Creed, bv Mrs. Cashel Hoey 

964— Memoirs of a Man of the World, by Edmund Yates... 

303— A Terrible Crime, by Emma Garrison Jones 

304 — Addie’s Husband 

314 — 20,000 Leagues under the Seas.. 


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SSS'-Life and Memoirs ofCen.Gtant 


MUNRO’S PUBLISHING HOUSE, 

24 and 26 Vandewater St., N. Y- 


SOME PB.ESS NOTICES 


oi* 

MUNRO’S POCKET MAGAZINE. 


What the World thinks of No. 1: 

The first number of Munro’s Pocket Magazine, published to-day, i« 
a neat, handy volume of 320 pages. It contains Max O’Rell’s “John 
Bull’s Daughters,” complete; Louisa Lauw’s “Fourteen Years with 
Adelina Patti,” complete; the opening chapters of “ A Family Affair,” 
by the author of “ Called Back,” and a choice miscellany of short 
stories and poems taken from the best English magazines. The Editorial 
Tid-bits contain bright comments on the topics of the day, the move- 
ment in literary, dramatic and social circles. The magazine is to appear 
montbly. 


What the Sun says: 

Munro’s Pocket Magazine made its appearance yesterday. It is in a 
small duodecimo form, and is made up of interesting selections judi- 
ciously put together. The whole of Max O’Rell’s “John Bull’s Daugh- 
ters ” is given. The number contains more than three hundred closely 
printed pages. 


What the Tribune observes: 

Mr. N. L. Munro has just begun the publication of a monthly 
which he calls Munro’s Pocket Magazine. It is a collection printed in 
reasonably clear type of some of the best current matter of the English 
magazines combined with the complete publication of such books as 
“ John Bull’s Daughters.” A few contributions from American authors 
will be included in the list and an editorial department will be maim 
tained. 


Muxro^s Pocket Maoazifte is the cheapest jouriia’ pi 
its kind in the world. Each number contains 

350 PACES 

of reading matter by the most celebrated authors. 

For Sale by all Newsdealers, or sent, on receipt of 2h 
cents, to any part of the country, postage paid. Address, 

MUNRO’S PUBLISHING HOUSE. 

24 and 26 Vandewater Street, N. Y. 



ft 

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^1 


MRS. ALEX. McTElGH MILLER'S WORKS. 

1. A Dreadful Temmatlon 

2. The Bride of the Tomb 

a An Old Man’s Darling 

4. Queenle’s Terrible Secret 

5. Jaquellna 

6. Little Golden’s Daughter 

7. The Rose and the LJly 

8. Countess Vera 

9. Bonnie Dora 

10. Guy Kenmore’s Wife 


. .20 Cencb 
.20 
.20 

.20 •» 

.20 

.20 

.20 ** 
,20 

.20 “ 
.20 - 


GEORGE ELIOT S WORKS. 


•• 11. Janet’s Repentance 10 

“ 12. Silas Marner 10 

* 13. Felix Holt, the Radical 20 

14. The Mill on the Floss 20 

15. Brother Jacob 10 

“ 16. Adam Bede 20 

“ 17. Romola ^ 

“ 18, Sad Fortunes of Rev. Amos Barton. 10 

“ 19. Daniel Deronda 20 

20. Mlddlemarch M 

“ 21. Mr. Gllfil’s Love Story 10 

“ 22. The Spanish Gypsy 20 

” 23. Impressions of Theophrastus Such 10 




•9 


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MISCELLANEOUS WORKS. 


24. The Two Orphans. By D’Ennery 10 •- 

“ 25. Yolande. By William Black 20 “ 

“ 26. Lady Audley’s Secret. By Miss BTaddon 20 “ 

” 27. When the Ship Comes Home. By Besant & Rice 10 “ 

•* John Halifax. Gentleman. By Miss Mulock 20 " 

" 29. In Peril of his Life By Gaboriau ^ ” 

” 30. The Romantic Adventures of a Milkmaid ..10 “ 

’* 31. Molly Bawn. By the Duchess 20 “ 

'* 32. Portia. By the Duchess 20 •* 

’ 33. Kit: a Memory. By James Payne ..20 ** 

'• 34. East Lynne. By Mrs. Henry Wood 20 ” 

‘ 35. Her Mother’s Sin. By Bertha M. Clay 10 ** 

36. A Prlnce.ssof Thule. By William Black. 20 “ 

“ 37. Phyllis. By the Duchess ^ “ 

’ 38. David Copperfield. By Charles Dickens 20 “ 

39. Very Hard Cash. By Charles Reade 20 * 

40. Ivanhoe. By Sir Walter ^ott 20 “ 

“ 41. Shirley. By Miss Bronte ^ “ 

“ 42. The Last Days of Pompeii. By Bulwer Lytton 20 

43. charlotte Temple. By Miss Rowson 10 * 

“ 44, Dora Thorne. By Bertha M. Clay 20 “ 

45. Old Curiosity Shop. By Charles Dickens 20 “ 

46. Camille. By Alex. Dumr.8, Jr 10 

“ 47. The Three Guardsmen. By Alex. Dumas 20 “ 

48. Jane Eyre By Charlotte Bronte 20 “■ 

” 49. Romance of a Poor Youim Man. By Feulllet 10 " 

’• 50. Back to the Old Home. By Mary Cecil Hay 10 

“ 51. Maggie; or, the Ix)on> Girl of Lowell. By WilliamMason Turner, M. D.20 “ 

“ 52. Two Wedding Rings. By lltarpraret Blount 20 

“ 53. Led Astray. By Helen M. Lewis 20 

“ 54. A Woman’s Atonement. By Ad^ M. Howard 20 “ 

“ 55, False. By Geraldine Fleming ^ 

“ 56. The Curse of Dangerfleld. By Elsie Snow. W “ 

" 57, Ten Years of HLs Life. By Eva Evergreen 20 

” 58, A Woman’s Fault. By Evelyn Gray.... 20 

59. Twenty Years After. By Alex. Dumas. W “ 

“ 60. A Queen Amongst Women and Between Two Sins. By Bertha M. Clay.% ** 

“ 61. Madolin’s Lhver. By Bertha M. Clay 20 “ 

62. Thaddeus of Warsaw. By Jane Porter 20 “ 

“ 63. Luclle. By Owen Meredith 20 “ 

“ 64. Charles Auchester. By E. Berger. . 20 “ 

“ 65. A Strange Story. Bv Bulwer 20 “ 

“ 66. Aurora Floyd. By Miss Braddon 20 “ 

” 67, Barbara’s History. By Amelia R Edwards. 20 “ 

“ 68. Called to Account. By Annie Thomas .20 ” 

“ 69. Old Myddleton’s Money. By Mary Cecil Hay 20 “ 

‘ 7a Thorns and Orange Bloasoms. By Bertha M. Clay. Complete 10 “ 


Remember that we do not charge extra for postage. Munro’s Library will bo 
sent to any part of the world, single numbers for 10 cents, double numbers for 
20 cents. 

NORMAN L. MUNRO, PUBLISHER, 

24 & 26 Vandewater St., N. Y. 









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